


Maybe in another life

by AniaLupin



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Drama, F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AniaLupin/pseuds/AniaLupin
Summary: Maybe in another life things will be different, life won't be so hard on us, and we'll be together.





	1. Cold

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't own Twilight, and English is not my first language, sorry for any grammatical mistakes!  
> Hope you all enjoy ;)

_Bella's point of view._

I was so cold.

Everything happened so fast, it was disturbing. One minute we were driving a stolen yellow Porsche, both praying to arrive on time. Less than an hour later I was on my knees on the cold marble floor of a room full of - from the little my human eyes could see - immortals. I still heard Alice's voice, the vampire alternating between asking me for forgiveness and begging for our lives.

We managed to arrive in town before noon, but with the crowd taking over the main street, it was nearly impossible to get around by car. With my heart pounding and no more seconds to lose, I unlocked my door and ran, desperately trying to find that place where Alice had foreseen a shining Edward in the middle of all the Volterians. It would be near a giant clock, and for one second, relief took over me as I finally saw the place. He would walk out of that dark alley, heading straight into the sun.

Just one more minute and he would be there.

He was _meant_ to be there.

But there was no sign of Edward. Was I too late? Oh God, we didn't make it on time, did we?

Maybe it wasn't this place, but could there be another stupid clock in such a small town? I should have run; perhaps if I had run back to the car, back to Alice, we would be on our way to the airport right now. When a scream brought me back to reality, I didn't think twice before rushing toward it.

There was, in fact, another clock, a silver one. And under the sun a girl was shining so brightly, not moving an inch despite all my efforts to pull her into the shadows. Alice had exposed herself in the sunlight and didn't even notice, her eyes telling me she was lost in her inner world. She predicted wrong, so very wrong, perhaps for the first time in her two lives.

"Bella, I'm so sorry!" the voice was no more than a whisper. "I'm so, so sorry."

I closed my eyes as the massive door opened once more, the light invading the room for a brief moment. I didn't want to see the face of who would end my life, I didn't want a cold-blood killer to be the last thing I would ever see. All the things I did in the previous few months that left me so close to death and I didn't even flinch. I went cliff-diving, for fuck's sake! So why now just when I needed most, all my courage abandoned me?

Maybe it will be just a few more minutes — hopefully just a few more seconds — until death came, and I now was utterly terrified. I wanted so much to see him just once more, to feel his cold skin against mine just one more time! I came here so convinced that my wish would come true that now it was terribly painful to be sentenced to die without it.

Now, even with this soul-consuming fear, he was not by my side. I couldn't even hear his voice in the back of my mind. It was so cold. 

"I would do anything, anything-"

And the broken voice suddenly fell silent, a second after I heard the sound of something like glass breaking - I should have kept my eyes closed. Tears I could no longer hold started to fall, followed by a sob. At least he was alive, at least he was safe. That would have to suffice. Again I could hear unfamiliar voices, talking too fast for my ears to catch any word. There was no need to listen. I knew who would be the next to have that same fate.

_'A cold hand on my shoulder almost made my heart stop._

_"Edward."_

_He sat next to me in the school cafeteria._

_"You're not yourself today. What happened?"_

_"I broke a mirror. It's seven days of bad luck, isn't it?"_

_His laughter was like a melody._

_"First of all, it's seven years, not seven days. And second, none of that bad omens nonsense is true."_

_"Have you tested it? Have you ever broken a mirror or walked under a ladder?"_

_He thought for a moment._

_"A black cat crossed my path once."_

_"And what happened next?"_

_"I saw you for the first time."'_

"The years of bad luck are real, Edward." I whispered in a trembling voice as I absorbed one of our last happy memories, trying to focus on anything but my surroundings.

Something sharp cut through my neck. Please, please, please, let it be quick. My scream could not get out, and I thanked God when I started feeling less and less with every passing second. The initial pain had already ceased- there was barely anything in me left. To die like this was quicker than I expected. It was as Alice said: almost painless, almost instantaneous. I hope her agony was as minimal as mine - I didn't blame her for my fate. How could I?

It wasn't long before all my physical sensation ceased. Finally, the cold was gone.

I felt nothing.

I heard nothing.

And then, it didn't seem like I was in that dark room anymore: everything around me looked so, but so bright. I gathered what little courage I had left and forced my eyes open.

...Edward?


	2. Falling

_Carlisle's point of view._

The Volturi.

To this day, their existence was never considered an unfortunate thing for me. I, after all, had been in Italy with Caius, Marcus, and Aro for years, and those vampires were the closest I had to a family before I decided to create my own.

After today, thinking about any of them was utterly sickening.

Right now, I couldn't decide what tormented me most: seeing my eldest wanting to end his brother's life or Edward waiting for death with arms wide open. He didn't fight, didn't move, and seemed unable to focus on anything; his eyes empty of any remaining life. The antonym of Jasper, who was exhausting all of his strength to get rid of Emmet's steel grip, his dark eyes loathing the vampire who lay motionless on the floor.

"I'll fucking kill you, you bastard! She was everything to me!" Between all the shoutings, Emmett was still managing to contain Jasper with visible effort, trying to get him out of the room before the ex-Confederate kept his word. Esme persisted in trying to induce some reaction from Edward, but his total lack of emotion had been going on for so long — since the second after we heard the news — that it might be possible to never get anything out of him again.

"Edward, get up!" Perhaps his existence was all that was left. "Say something, do something, please!"

My wife's words provoked only one reaction: an increase in all the anger our elder felt which overwhelmed everyone in the room. I couldn't do anything even if I wanted to, and how my wife had yet been untaken by all that hatred was inexplicable - but then, Esme was Esme. I always knew she would never raise a hand for any of our children.

That Friday had started pleasingly, but then within a few seconds, everything went terribly wrong. The news that Alice was arriving with Bella at the gates of Volterra came as Edward knocked on our door, claiming he had the right to die by my hands - the hands of his damn creator. And that was the only thing I could comprehend, the vampire couldn't stay long in a coherent speech, and I could not focus properly on his words knowing that both my daughter and the girl we considered part of the family were so close to the most dangerous of our race. Only one thought came into my head: Edward wasn't supposed to be here.

He understood in an extremely short time what was happening.

Seconds later, as Esme entered the room, my hands were dialing over and over a number I knew by heart on the cell phone - I tried and tried, but it repeatedly went to voicemail. It was when Jasper passed the front door with his brother and sister that hell broke loose. For a moment I found myself losing two more children - even though I was still uncertain I had lost my two girls. Jasper lunged at Edward before uttering any word, and it was Rosalie who prevented him from ripping off a piece of his brother's arm.

"Do you want to know whose fault this is?" I watched Rosalie screaming at Jasper, Emmett placing himself between them to prevent — or at least try — the beginning of another fight. "If Alice hadn't insisted on throwing a stupid party for a pathetic excuse for a human being who did not even want one, everything would be fine!"

"How dare you blame her?" Jasper would have undoubtedly killed his sister hadn't Emmett been between the two. "You're the one who decided to call him, how could you be so stupid? Bella fell off a cliff and died, what's the point of telling him that your stupid bitch?"

I was trying to stay positive, and everybody deep down was trying the same: Alice would have a vision before anything happened to either of them. She would foresee before anything went bad because yes, my daughter was that good. And for a few seconds, everything was under control. I made myself believe the worst was over, and Jasper also thought — he had to — that the best would happen, and a feeling of calm envolved us all.

It lasted until the phone rang.

It was Alice's number, but the voice I heard on the other end of the line was familiar to me for many more centuries. I didn't have to repeat the words from Caius - the utter silence in the room was enough for everyone to hear his speech as I absorbed it.

She infringed the rules.

She exposed herself in Volterra.

A human, who knew everything.

Alice had no desire to cooperate with us.

We acted to protect our race.

Unacceptable.

Dead.

"You're the one to blame, you bastard! YOU!" As Jasper's pathokinesis affected everyone there in the worst way, Edward remained motionless on the floor. It was impossible to know if he was listening or if he had locked himself in his own world, but Jasper didn't seem to care. "If this absurd idea of disappearing from Bella's life had never taken place, the love of my damned existence would still be alive!"

And then everyone was staring at me, waiting for me to chose sides - Jasper's side. Didn't they understand I absolutely couldn't do that? Both of them have lost someone today, and as much as everyone might think it was mostly Edward's fault, I had to admit that he had not forced either of them to go after him. Alice's visions were volatile; we all knew that! Some minor detail could change, and Alice should always be aware of this possibility - and right in their city, she was not.

If it were to accuse someone, allow me to take the blame: we should never have left Forks. Having allowed our family to move out of there was my mistake. Having allowed Edward to surrender to his fears was my mistake.

"Bring Alice back to me! Bring her back!" Jasper was no longer trying to break free, and his torment seemed only to increase with the fact he could not shed a tear. "I just want her back. I don't know how to live without her anymore." I heard my son's voice fade more with each word. "I don't want to know."A few more seconds passed before Emmett finally released his brother, who barely stood up without support. His eyes looked more and more like Edward's every passing second, and as much as I wanted to deny it, I already knew that I had not lost only two today, but four.

My eldest stepped back, his gaze already matching his brothers. Then, without a word — not even breathing anymore — he turned and pushed open the front door.

"Jasper, bro-"

"Leave it." Who stopped Emmett was his wife. The only daughter I had left, who at the moment had an expression that rarely took care of her face. When our eyes met, I saw she shared all my suffering and anguish, seeing the family grow smaller with each passing minute. The agony of not knowing what would happen at the end of it all.

There was not even a hint of the future ahead. Not anymore.

"Leave it, Rose? Really? He's gonna do shit out there, and he doesn't need one more thing to blame himself on, not now." But Jasper was no longer in sight. Emmett didn't hesitate to follow.

"Carlisle, do something!"

I was the patriarch of a family that had collapsed in a matter of seconds before my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I didn't know what to do.

* * *

It was already night when Jasper returned home. Emmett had not yet gotten back, and Esme remained with Rose still trying to induce some reaction from Edward.

The words that came shortly after the knock on my office door didn't surprise me.

"I'm leaving."

Staying with Jasper only made the pain worse: all the feelings he carried was too much. And what my son made me feel at that moment was stronger than any sense of loss I had ever experienced. At the same time that I wanted to beg him to stay, I desired that Jasper got out of our house as quickly as possible. When I looked into his black eyes, I saw the vampire was aware of the contradiction in which I was in.

And understanding it all, he hugged me. Jasper was a wonderful man, despite everything that was happening, despite the fatality that perhaps ended all the happiness of his eternity, in no moment came the request to choose a side. He knew I could under no circumstances do that, and was still understanding enough to comprehend.

How could I ask for a more noble son? How could I allow him to go?

"I cannot stay in the same house as him, Carlisle. I'm sorry, but I can't." He justified himself, staring at the floor. "It will be better for everyone. You know that."

Yes, I knew it.

"Have you talked to Esme yet?" He shook his head no. "Emmett, Rosalie?"

"Inform them for me."

"The doors will always be wide-open to you, Jasper, no matter what. If you need anything, at any time, come find me." I observed a smile forming on his lips, which did not match the look on his face.

And then my son turned and disappeared through the night.

* * *

"Chief Swan, I'm deeply sorry-"

_"My daughter, Carlisle, my only daughter!"_

Perhaps one of the most dreadful moments was talking to Charlie. It was terrible hearing someone on the other side of the line, who could cry and relieve some of the pain. Someone who suffered the very same way as me, who had the same pain: the ache of losing a child.

It tore my heart hearing someone accusing my son, who was already suffering so much upstairs, who could be listening to every single word.

_"It's all because of this kid of yours-"_

"Edward is not to blame-"

_"My little girl is dead! Because of a whim-"_

"Charlie, I know-"

_"You know? How do you know? How dare you say that-"_

"BECAUSE I LOST A CHILD TOO!" And I threw the cell phone against the wall without thinking, the device falling apart in a thousand pieces when hitting the concrete.

One second later, the most distressing cry I had ever heard in my life came from the room above. At the time I didn't know, but that was my last conversation with Charlie Swan. That was also the last time for many years to come that I heard Edward's voice.

* * *

_Alice's point of view._

Neither of us expected this fate, nor imagined such a thing might happen. How could we have predicted that the morning I left to visit Bella would be the last time we would kiss and declare our love to each other? The point was to come back, with everyone safe, with Edward convinced that staying with Isabella was his best choice. He, Isabella, Jasper and I, the four of us again living in Forks. A perfect ending, as I had foreseen.

What was Jasper experiencing right now? What happened at my family's house?

It was so frustrating not being able to see mine or anybody's future anymore! I didn't even know where I was, why suddenly everything was so bright again? The marble room was so much darker than the one I was in, the illumination of my final seconds had been so scarce, so weak.

My final seconds. How can I still-

Finally having the courage to unclose my eyes, I had the surprise of my life when I distinguish a woman in white standing next to me. Everything was too white around me. Everything was white. What the hell?

"Oh Alice, this is definitely not hell." The stranger said to me with a smile on her lips. Did this human have any idea of what I was? Or the many ways I could cause her harm? Couldn't she see how different the creature lying next to her was? Why didn't she run away as any sane person would?

And why was I still alive?

But if I'm alive... That means I'll be able to see Jasper again! Oh thank God, they must have changed their minds-

"I understand you are still confused, child. I have all the time in the world to explain everything to you. You are safe now; the worst part is over."

"I don't understand-" That wasn't my voice! I got up, not as fast as usual, and tried to find a way out of the room, but I couldn't get to an exit. Everything was as white as the skin of my hands.

My hands. I couldn't feel my hands or any part of my body. I couldn't feel anything.

"Listen, mam', I need to get going," The woman laughed. Oh fuck, was she really human or some kind of mythical creature? Was I going to get killed again? But I didn't-

"Alice, look around you, where do you think you are?" In the whitest place I've ever been in my entire life, without a doubt. "Where were you?"

"In Italy, driving."  
_I'm so sorry, Bella. I'm so, so sorry!_  
"And then, with the Volturi."

Having my arms ripped out had only hurt for a millisecond.

Oh my God.

"I died?"

The statement I didn't want to hear came. And with that, all the pain came back. The pain of being unable to say goodbye to anyone hit me completely. The pain of being unable to say goodbye to the love of my life.

"Jasper! Oh, Jasper-"

"I'm here, Alice. Your pain is-"

"Oh, just shut up! I'm dead! I left him after I swore I would never leave him again and now-" I heard a sob come through my lips, and then something that had never happened in my life — or at least I didn't remember having the ability to do — happened. Tears. I could feel the tears. I was crying. I could cry. "Shit, Jasper."

And crying caused an almost soothing effect.

Carlisle was the next thing that invaded my mind. A soul. If I'm dead, we are not soulless monsters. He had always believed it, with all his strength, though none of us put any faith in that theory - we didn't even know if humans had it, let alone us, immortal beings with almost no trace of humanity left.

We were so wrong. It was true, everything our father repeatedly told us. It was the only explanation for what was happening right now.

"If this is your question, yes. You possess a soul. We all have, from an ant to your kind. After all, what is a vampire if not a living being? We are all a form of life, and all life forms have an essence." the stranger explained, her face a mask of annoying calmness.

But no, I didn't want to have a soul if this meant I would now live without him! I would rather it all being a lie, an illusion of a dying mind. Let there be death, and then nothing else, as we have repeatedly forced ourselves - at least, I forced myself - to believe.

"Are you sure about that?"

"About what?"

"Not wanting to have an essence." Wait, what? How could she read- "You need to calm down, child." the woman said in her eternal gentle voice, stepping away from me, looking at the infinite white. "Once you calm yourself down, everything will become clearer. Relax, and then you'll be capable of seeing everything." Seeing what? "Him, Alice."

"Are you serious?" she nodded, and I forced myself to calm down in the same second. To see Jasper once again: I desired it more than anything. "But I won't be able to stay with him." For some reason, that was a certainty in my mind.

"You have choices to make, child. But first, you need to see your family." My family. And Bella, I needed to see Isabella! "Yes, she's here too, but she may not be able to perceive you. The pain in her soul is too great to distinguish anything, at least for the time being." she finished speaking and turned away from me.

Suddenly, the white began to assume the form of a familiar household.

I took a deep breath and stepped through the open door. Nothing could have prepared me for the scene I witnessed.

"No, Jasper, no!" It didn't take long for me to discover that throwing myself at him was useless: I went straightforward through him as if I wasn't there. And thinking about it, I wasn't: for them, I was dead. In this stupid corporeal world, I didn't have a solid form anymore. Tears came instantly, as I saw the anguish on each one's face. "Goddammit, Jasper."

I didn't want to see any more of what was happening. I didn't want to see on the face of those I loved so much that kind of anger or the complete emptiness in my brother's eyes. The woman in white stood next to Esme, a hand on her shoulder, and I understood she was having some type of influence under my mother, for she seemed the only one unaffected by my husband's feelings - even Carlisle looked to be trying so hard to control himself, barely moving.

And then my eyes found Bella, and at once I comprehended the words before. My sister perceived nothing of what was happening around her, focusing purely on my brother, crying as she saw him so lifeless.

My family was crumbling, and I knew it. Images started flashing in my mind: Carlisle arguing with Esme, slamming the front door; Rose and Emmett miserable, struggling to remain in the same house as our parents. Edward closing himself forever. And then Jasper.

"No, no, please don't do it!" Jasper was going to the Volturi.

He had already left the house when I came out of my trance.

"Do something; he can't go to them! He can't!"

Despair. Not even in my final seconds, I experienced anything as strong as I was right now. Jasper was no longer in the house, and I knew I wouldn't be capable of following him at that speed. I looked at the woman, begging for some help, some way of sorting all this mess, even in that useless state.

"Think of him. Think of where his energy is right now." Thinking about him was all I was doing since I had woken up, didn't she understand that yet? "Close your eyes, child. You know where he is."

No, I didn't, I wanted to scream, but I closed my eyes nevertheless, trying to empty my head of everything but Jasper. It was worth a try. What else can I do anyway? When I opened them again, I found myself and my husband in a forest not far from home, Jasper standing near a waterfall with clenched fists. Our waterfall.

"Talk to him." As if he would listen to me. I couldn't even stop him from trying to kill my brother! "You're strong enough to make yourself heard, Alice. He may be unaware it's you, but his thoughts will change. Believe in me, child."

I took a deep breath — apparently, this habit would never die — and focused on him.

"Jazz." I took a step ahead, my hand once again going through the face I wanted so badly to touch. "Jazz, please," I closed my eyes. His image going to Volterra was still concrete. "I can't do it. He won't listen!"

"If you keep thinking like that, you won't succeed." And was I supposed to think in what way? My lover was suffering more than ever before, and here I was completely helpless by his side, unable to do anything! "Alice, calm down." It was close to impossible to calm myself down by feeling everything he was feeling. "You can do it, Alice. For him."

I can do it.

"Jazz, listen to me." I tried once more touching his skin, without success. "Jazz, don't go! I love you! You can't fucking kill yourself because of what happened! They'll kill you before you lay your hands on any of them." But he wanted to die, didn't he? Goin to the Volturi for revenge was just an excuse to get what he desired: an end for his pain. "Jasper, please!" God knows how much I wanted him by my side, but not like this! I didn't want to stay with him again after he- "Don't do this, goddammit!"

It was useless: the vision of Volterra was still repeating itself in a damn looping inside my head. No, I didn't want to see it anymore, somebody please make it stop!

"Don't go, Jazz." I just wanted to touch him. I needed him to listen to me so badly. Do as I say just one more time, Jazz. "Stay alive. Stay here."

I closed my eyes again, trying to focus on our happy memories: Jasper going to the mall with me, always with a beautiful smile on his lips. He never complained about a thing. He went to school, despite all the thirst he felt, just to be by my side. He was so nervous about living with the Cullens at the beginning, but he stayed for me. He was always so good to me. How I wish I had the chance to say all these things to him one more time. To say how much I loved him, how much he meant to me. How much he affected my life.

I remembered the way he manipulated the feelings around everyone in the family, leaving everything always in the best possible way, how he calmed me down when I needed to. How he was never ashamed to admit how much he needed me.

He needed me.

I couldn't leave him.

"Wait for me." My hand touched his face, and this time I could feel his warm cheek. "I'm gonna get back to you. Even if it takes me years, I'll find a way, my love. Even if it takes me a thousand years, I'll find a way to be with you again.

It was a relief to see the vision of Volterra finally fading.

"So you made your decision." I smiled. It was incredible the calmness that was taking over me. "Child, you do know you're going to be reborn with no memory of this life, don't you?"

It didn't matter: I would go back. I will be able to touch Jasper again. To get to know him again.

"Yes. But I'll remember. Somehow I will." I would find a way, for him.

"Yes, you will. We all find our most ancient memories when we need to. Now," she said, approaching me one last time, her hand on my forehead. "Until we meet again."

And everything went black.


	3. Alive

_Bella's point of view._

Tears had been flowing and flowing for a long time now, for so long that I had lost track of time. Days? Weeks? Years? How much time has passed since that day in Volterra? I felt it might as well been centuries, and yet I could not imagine a reason terrible enough for me to have been sent to this dreadful place. I was pretty sure I had not been such a bad daughter, hadn't done anything so unforgivable to deserve what I was going through. Was loving him an unforgivable thing? Was falling in love with an immortal reason enough to be sent here?

Because seeing him like this every passing second was horrible. Seeing him like this, day after day, made me sure of where I was.

I was in hell.

I looked at the giant full moon outside the window. It was night again, and for another twenty-four hours, Edward had remained motionless, eyes staring out into nothingness. He grew paler every day, even his bones seemed more prominent. The dark circles under his eyes were more profound than I had ever seen. Could a vampire die of starvation? Would that be my fate, watching him fade before my eyes, day after day, for all eternity?

This certainly was my punishment for wanting to stay beside him forever — punishment for desiring eternity. Wishing to have him forever probably was a terrible enough sin, and now I was paying for it. Wishing to become a vampire when I still had so much life in me.

I closed my eyes, collapsing beside Edward. Every time I closed my eyes, things got so much worse, but I was already convinced I deserved everything I was going through. Whenever the darkness welcomed me, the memories of the life that had been taken away came back too strongly. All the memories with him, echoes of a happy time, memories that would make my mind my eternal hell.

The first time we met. The first time we kissed. Meeting his family. The first time I talked to Alice. When I first faced real danger and he saved me, taking me in his arms and promising I would never have to worry about anything. That he would always protect me.

My head leaned against his shoulder, but I couldn't feel his cold skin. Esme was standing next to him again, and Edward was, as always, still as stone. My Edward. What was he thinking right now? What was he feeling?

My real Edward. Not this one my sins were making me see. This Edward was not real.

I would give anything to read his thoughts. I would give anything to be able to help him in any way. He should be feeling guilty. I knew him, better than I thought I knew, according to Alice on our trip to Volterra. He was not to blame. He does not deserve to sink day after day, as the Edward in my hell does. I didn't want to be like this anymore! I wanted it all to stop, I wanted to get out of here! Can't everything be all right again? I was so tired! There was not even a spark of energy left on me to continue like this, living those hellish days.

"At last." For the first time, I noticed someone standing next to Esme, and that could very well have made my heart race if there was still one beating in my chest. "Don't be afraid, child. I'm here to help you."

"You're an angel?" She smiled. Did I remember how to do that? How long has it been since I saw one? "You came to get me out of here?"

"I think you can call me that if you want. And yes, I'm here to help you, my dear." I watched her take a step closer to me, her eyes slowly leaving Esme. "Before you ask me — because I know you're going to — this is not hell. At least not the hell all humans believe. Your suffering along with all your guilt turned this into your personal hell." What?

"You mean, I'm creating this in my mind, day after day?" Oh thank God, I could make this stop!

"This is real, Isabella."

"Real?"

"He's not a made-up Edward from your imagination. He's real, and your suffering is making him sink more and more every passing day."

The tears came back instantly. This was real? All this time this insane hell was real, he was real? And I was to blame for all of his misery?

"Of course not, child. Don't think of yourself as guilty." The woman put a hand on my shoulder, and her touch instantly calmed me down. Her hand was warm and had the tenderness of a mother's touch. "I understand it's hard to be separated from him, especially after so much time," she said with an almost sad look. "But you staying beside him like this will not help him."

I sighed, moving away from my vampire. It was almost painful, but if it were for his sake, no matter how much it distressed me, I would never be close again. Edward had a whole eternity ahead of him. He needed to get out of this state for his family, and he urgently needed to compose himself before any more suicidal thoughts went through his mind.

"Maybe it's a bit late for that." The woman spoke suddenly. Late?

"Late for what?"

"It will be easier if you listen to it yourself." She put one of her hands on the vampire's forehead and the other on mine. "Calm your mind. Concentrate."

In the first instant, all went silent. And then all of sudden a pained voice seemed to speak inside my mind — his voice.

_I promised her. I promised that I would never set foot in Volterra, and so far I have not dishonored that._

Edward! Oh God, Edward!

_But the very possibility of seeing her again is too tempting. Even a vile creature as me could have a soul. And she won't be mad for long if I gave up on everything, would she?_

"No Edward, no! How can you think about it?"

Then it happened: Edward opened his eyes. He looked straight at me, and for a moment I asked myself if he could see me. But one second later his dark eyes wandered around the room as if searching for something.

_Bella?_

His voice was so broken.

"Edward, I don't want you thinking about killing yourself anymore! You can't do that. You don't have to!" I tried to speak as seriously as possible. Would he listen to me? Would he understand what's going on, or would he think I'm just some delusion of his mind? I was having so much trouble in understanding all that was happening; it won't surprise me Edward simply ignoring my request.

_No, I don't have to: I need to. I told you, I can't survive in a world without you, my love. I'm not able to, as you can see._

"Edward, please!" I said, trying to control a sob.

_No, my love, don't cry! So close and yet so far. I'll be with you in no time I promise, so please don't cry._

"Think of Esme!" For a moment the argument seemed to work. "She's already suffering so much, don't you see? She has lost so much!"

_I am a selfish creature, my love. I don't always do the right thing._ I knew I was losing the battle.  _I can't exist like this anymore. It hurts so much, Bella._  Maybe there was no way to win this; perhaps it was a lost battle from the start.

No. I couldn't give up this easily. I would fight until the very end! Until the last second of his life, I would stay by his side and tell him to live!

"Don't do this. For me, Edward."

_Everything I do, I do for you, my love. No one is more important than you. Nothing is more important than you._

How I wish I could touch him! How I needed it! I knew it was useless, but still, I tried to reach his pale face with one of my hands. Damn, I needed so much to be alive right now!

And then it happened.

_Bella, are you really here? Your hand is so warm-_

"Edward, you have to live. Stay alive for me!" Looking at him was more difficult than ever. The beam of hope in those eyes, which I saw the instant his cheek was touched by the tips of my fingers, seemed to tear my insides apart.

I asked him to keep living, but what could I do to make it better? How can I help him, in that non-corporeal form? Would it help if I stayed forever like this by his side, or it would only make everything worse? I wouldn't mind spending an eternity like this if it made him change his mind. But I wanted to touch him again, to feel him once more.

"Are you sure?" Sure about what? "You want to go back. It's still early, but your sister is already back in the material plane."

"My sister?"

"Alice." So was it real? They had souls! "Two fools, thinking that something can continue in this world without having an essence."

He would wait for me. He had to wait for me.

"Edward, I'll find you again. It will take years, but you will have to wait for me." I looked deeply into those sad eyes, even though I knew he would not be able to see me. "I need you to promise me. Promise you'll wait for me, Edward."

_I would wait forever if it means having you again._

"Then wait for me, my love." I took my hand away from his face, watching his eyes close again. "I'm ready."

* * *

The alarm clock was ringing loudly in my nightstand. Oh God, just five more minutes!

"Izzy, seven-thirty!" I heard Alice scream from her bedroom in her eternally cheerful voice. How can my sister get up so early and have such a good mood?

I mumbled a little longer before finally having the courage to turn off the alarm and step out from under my warm duvet.

"Al, tell me you didn't try to make breakfast!" I said as I opened the bedroom door, thanking the heavens for seeing Alice already out of the bathroom. "How can you wake up so early, evil spawn?" I asked, one hundred percent grumpy, before slamming the door.

"Good day to you too, sister of mine!"

I took off my pajamas and entered the shower - and thankfully my sister has left me with enough hot water.

Alice was nine months older than me and just turned eighteen last August. For that particular date, we arranged a massive birthday party: the house ended up filled with exactly fifty-three people, which was almost a miracle, considering the modest size of the building.

We grew up without our parents. I remembered very little of my mother, being Al the one who had more memories of them. Car crash, instant death, I would never forget those words in the morning news. It was only after my tenth birthday that I understood this meant they both died too quickly to feel any pain.

After the accident, we went to live with our grandparents, the only family we had left. Here in this new city, I was already missing grandma. On the 30th of August, three days after my sister's birthday, we moved into this house using our future college as an excuse.

But the truth was that two teenagers sharing the same space with two older people wasn't at all pleasant, not for us, and especially not for them. As much as our grandparents never complained, we knew it bothered them to have to deal with our loud music, our silly little fights and all our friends that always came uninvited to visit. So, we ended up buying this house in Manchester. It was better this way.

I closed the water and wrapped myself in a towel. Was there enough time to make something to eat? Well, it won't be the end of the world if I get late for my first period. I quickly put on my clothes and tried to fix my wet hair. Argh, why had I even washed it knowing I would not have time to dry it? I could see myself freezing outside.

"I didn't make breakfast, but I made coffee." It was the first thing I heard as I stepped into the kitchen. "For you and for me." Alice pointed to the mug resting on my side of the table.

"Mochaccino?" I asked, recognizing the aroma of coffee and chocolate. I loved mochaccinos, and right now really loved my sister. "God bless you." I took a sip and hurried to start breakfast, glad to see an unopened jar of honey in the cupboard. Pancake it is.

I could say that cooking was a strong point for me. Grandma always told me that I had inherited that gift from my mother Elizabeth: everything I cooked was as tasty as her food. No need to say who prepared all the food in our house now.

"Are you working till late again today?" I asked, putting a plate full of pancakes with honey in the middle of the table. I saw Al shrugging, her mouth already too full to answer. "For a little person like you," I teased her, getting an annoyed look instantly - my sister was extremely sensitive about her height. "It's impressive how much food fits into this body. And the most amazing thing is that you simply don't get any bigger."

I heard something that I translated as 'high metabolism' and two pancakes later, I noticed a pile of cards resting near the stove. Alice's Tarot Cards. Insanely beautiful and very old cards bought at a flea market for less than they probably were worth. The reason for all that curiosity - obsession, as I called it and she hated - of trying to see the future I never understood and maybe never will.

The funniest, and I have to say bizarre, thing was that she got it right from time to time. Like the time Grandpa broke his leg or the one in which she warned me about an accident on the school bus.  _Just walk today Izzy, I saw in the cards it was a bad day._

And on that Saturday, I would have gotten in the car with our parents if it weren't for Alice's whining. What would our lives be like if they had listened to their five-year-old?

"I think I'll make it to dinner, even though it's Friday." She said, putting her empty plate in the sink. "Netflix and pizza tonight? We can make popcorn too, eat a lot of chocolate and drink ice cold Coke under a warm blanket."

"And watch Breakfast at Tiffany's?" I finished my plate and put it with the rest of the dirty dishes. I'll handle them after school. "We have that on Netflix, right?"

"Somewhere in time, too." Alice took one last sip of her coffee before getting up. "We really know how to make a cold and depressing Friday's night perfect. Now, how do I look?" the girl gave a little twirl, showing off her woolen dress and thick socks before putting on her double-lined coat.

"Great as always," I said as I grabbed my backpack. "But shouldn't you wear a heel or something? You're smaller than grandma today!" And with that, I hurried out the front door, laughing at a compilation of swearing words screamed by Alice before locking the door.


	4. Meetings and Tarot Cards

_Bella's point of view._

"I'm so, so sorry, Izzy!" said my sister for the fifth time.

We have been living in Manchester for more than a couple of months already. The plan was to move at the end of August so we could finish the whole school year at Manchester High School Central, and everything went accordingly. The only thing that didn't quite follow was our ability - better saying, the lack of one - to make new friends.

"Al, I don't mind, really." I said as we walked through the school gates.

Alice and I were in our final year of high school, and at the beginning of the school semester, we promised to organize our timetable as separate from each other as possible. It was a plan to meet new people and make friends here in Manchester. Sad to say, it completely failed.

So, as I had no real friends here, I didn't exactly feel comfortable asking anyone for a ride home on days like today, even knowing that one girl from my Math class lived not far away from my street.

"Do you want me to drop you at the bus stop? Come on, is the least I can do. It's so freaking cold, and I heard it would snow by the end of the day-"

"Al, the bus stop is right in front of the school," I pointed, grabbing my backpack. "And by the end of the day, I'll hopefully be home, under my covers with all the hot chocolate I can drink. Now go and stop being an overprotective mother - you're my sister!"

She sighed in defeat. Alice worked at Tiffany's, and it wasn't always that they called asking her to cover for someone, but we both knew that when they called, she just had to go no matter what. My sister kept saying that when I turned eighteen next year I had my place waiting for me there, but I just couldn't imagine myself working for that company. I was looking for a much safer place to work, without as many glass shelves and jewels whose prices almost always exceeded three digits as my sister had around her. A cafeteria, for example. With everything made from plastic.

"Go, Al! Your boss said fifteen minutes!" I half said, half yelled to Alice, who seemed to still be in a dilemma between letting me catch the bus or risking a delay and driving me home. But I had already decided, and when I saw my bus from afar I dashed towards it, miraculously not tripping over anything - a small victory!

"Izzy, you didn't-"

"Bye Al! Have a lovely afternoon with all your boring coworkers!" I shouted through one of the open windows, not caring for the uneasy looks received. "I'll make us some dinner, okay?" And I finally sat on an empty bench, watching my sister go back to the parking lot. Putting my backpack in my lap, I took out a gray iPod from it, forgetting about everything around me as I put the earphones on.

Alice always said my taste for music was eclectic. It was her way of telling the truth: I had a very, very 'old' taste. While everyone around me, including her, listened to the top 100 songs, I hummed 'I wanna hold your hand' from the Beatles, as it did now. At least for movies, Al and I shared the same old taste.

It was not long before the market appeared in my field of vision, making me rush to get off the bus on time. I planned to go straight to the store, buy every popcorn and chocolate the money in my wallet could buy, and then run to our house as fast as possible because the cold on the street was hard to bear this afternoon with my not-so-thick coat. Perhaps it was time to buy new ones to survive the temperatures in Manchester. I should probably go shopping over the weekend. Alice certainly wouldn't mind. On the contrary, my company for shopping was the dream, as she always said.

I crossed the street and smiled as I remembered our house was only a block away - thank God. It was a really freaking cold afternoon.

Passing through a Starbucks, I considered making a stop and grabbing a cup of coffee before shopping for groceries. I stopped in front of the glass facade to see what time it was on my phone and noticing that I had enough time for my caffeine fix, I put the electronic back in my pocket and looked inside trying to check the size of the queue. It was then that my eyes caught a figure so familiar that it made me stop in the middle of the freezing street.

Where have I seen him before?

He had his back to me, a cup of coffee chilling beside him. The transparent glass allowed me to see the boy clearly, and I wished he would turn around so I could see the face and hopefully put a name to it. I was really good with names and faces, after all. I knew him, I was sure of that. I'm sure I knew him, even after seeing only his back.

He wore a dark blue beanie, and I could see a few strands of dark bronze hair. Even with so little showing, my eyes caught glimpses of his exposed skin, whiter than mine. You could tell he was tall, he should be at least six feet.

When I noticed, my feet had already taken me to the entrance of the cafeteria - I needed to see his face as I needed to breathe - while my mind worked incessantly in trying to find a name compatible with the man.

Daniel, Michael, Mike, Lauren, Marco, Gabriel?

Jonas?

Charlie?

Jacob?

None of these.

I entered, my skin thanking the new heat that softened the negative degrees slightly from outside, and with a few steps, I could finally see him completely.

God, he was beautiful. In fact, it was difficult to find a single word to describe what my eyes saw. If my sister could listen to my thoughts right now, I would never hear the end of it. It was foolish thinking of something so clichéd, but it was the ultimate truth: he had a kind of beauty so different from today's that it was practically ancient. His head was hanging low, a neutral expression on his face. His eyes were not very visible, but they seemed to be dark in tone.

I didn't know anyone so perfect like that in Nashua. Not there, nor anywhere I can remember now. So why does he feel like someone so familiar, so close?

I was so absorbed by the boy and so unaware of anything around me, thanks to the headphones still reproducing Beatles in my ears, that I didn't see the man in front of me. But I was hardly surprised by the crash, as I crashed into everything. I was about to go to the bronze haired perfect man, maybe a little faster than I should, when I thudded too hard with something too hard. First, my books went to the floor, then the headphones, and then it was my turn.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry!" I had a déjà vu with the phrase, probably remembering my sister's words minutes ago. Something hurt, but I couldn't smell blood anywhere. Seconds later, a strong arm lifted me, and as I leaned my left hand on a bench, I discovered the source of the pain.

"Totally my fault, don't worry, I'm used to this." I murmured, still a bit disoriented as I sat.

When I turned my eyes to where my attention was before, the chair was already empty. Damn it.

"I'm always hurting my wrist, seriously. How my hand has not fallen out yet is still a mystery to me."

"Let me help you," I shrunk as I felt a frosty touch on my bruised hand. My eyes noticed the thick woolen gloves and wondered how his hand still appeared to be ice cubes wearing them.

"Really, I'm fine-"

"I'm a doctor; that's the least I can do."

I was about to protest once more when I saw his eyes.

I had never seen such a yellow color on anyone's iris, and it was so annoyingly familiar, again. Undoubtedly there was something wrong with me today, first thinking I knew a guy who should probably make a living as a model and now finding the doctor standing in front of me strangely familiar. A doctor who could earn a living as a model as well. He didn't look more than thirty, and his traces also resembled those movie heartthrobs from the eighties — beautiful, old-fashioned, and so familiar.

I heard him clear his throat, realizing with a bit of embarrassment I was staring in silence.

"I guess I'm a little dizzy." I tried justifying, feeling my cheeks flush. Focus, Isabella. My eyes went to my hand already a little purplish as the doctor picked up everything I had dropped in the fall. "Look, this was all really my fault-" I was apologizing when he sat across from me, interrupting me with a smile. Was that boy's smile as unique as that one? It was almost hypnotic.

"I was paying as much attention as you, really. My son can make me go crazy sometimes." the blond said, putting the briefcase he carried on the table. "We can go to the hospital if-"

"No hospitals." I cut him as soon as I heard the word. "I hate them."

A cappuccino arrived just as he pulled his chair closer to me, carefully touching my sprained wrist.

"It's for you, dear. You look like you could use some coffee." he said, handing me the drink and I felt the blush coming back to my face almost instantaneously. I bumped into a kind stranger, and he insists on sharing the guilt, examines my hand and now pays me coffee. I took a sip from the excessively hot liquid, placing the cup back into the table beside me a second before I almost jumped from a burning pain.

"Ouch!"

"I should have warned you, but waiting for the pain is always worse. Do you often dislocate your wrist like this?"

"Uhmm," I replied, still recovering from the discomfort. "I can say it's frequent. Especially when I'm forced to play volleyball or when I meet friendly strangers." He let out a melodic chuckle.

"Well, you did not break anything, but it's best to wear a wristband for a few days. Here." He lightly touched the purple spot in my hand. "If you want, I can prescribe you something for the pain. It should disappear in a week at the most." And before I could say anything, the man put a brown elastic band around my hand and wrist.

"I'm going to return you the wristband, you know that, right sir?" Again the laughter, perfectly tuned. I felt a little jealous as my laughter was not that good to hear. On the contrary, I sounded like a crow every time I laughed.

"Please don't call me sir!" he asked, closing his suitcase. "You make me feel way beyond my age. I'm Carlisle." The doctor finally introduced himself, holding out a hand for me. I shook it with my good hand, giving back a smile.

Carlisle.

What an old name.

"Isabella Thompson. It's a pleasure."

"My pleasure, Isabella."

I drank the rest of my cappuccino, trashing the empty cup. As I walked back to our table, I could see him rummaging in one of the pockets of his pants.

"Bless you for the coffee, and for helping me with my wrist." I thanked him, as I packed my backpack on my shoulders and grabbed the remaining books.

We left the cafeteria, Carlisle holding the door open for me, handing me a small white card when we got outside.

"So you know where to find me if you ever want to give me back the wristband."

Carlisle Cullen, Orthopedist and Trauma Surgeon.

"Thanks."

"If your hand gets worse, come looking for me, okay?" he said as he slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat. "Have a good day, Bella." And the doctor left before I could answer.

He was such a pleasant and thoughtful stranger. It's a rare thing to see in that rushed city. Where had I seen someone like this doctor to explain this feeling of familiarity? And what about that guy? I wish I had the chance to look at him properly, as I was pretty sure we'd met somewhere before. Maybe he was at one of Al's crazy parties.

A gust of wind made me move again. I looked at my hand, now throbbing in the cold: not the right day to forget to put gloves into my backpack. At least it would merely be a few more minutes until I got home. Putting my headphones in my ears, I rushed to the market.

* * *

_Alice's point of view._

I parked the car in the garage, exhausted, barely able to open the door. I wanted to scream when I saw the time on the digital clock: was it really already half past eleven? As much as I enjoyed my work, it was slavery! At least I'd have the weekend off.

Only when I unlocked the car door, after a minute considering the possibility of sleeping right there, I remembered why I had rushed to get home. I closed the garage door in a hurry, shaking with the cold that had grown considerably that night, half running toward the entrance door. I called Bella that afternoon, and she commented her hand was a disaster because of a fall. I just knew something was going to happen to her and knew I should have ridden her home.

I was always overly protective of my sister. I couldn't explain if this was a big sister thing, or if it was because of Bella's ability to attract minor disasters wherever she went. Like this afternoon: dear God, who falls in the middle of a coffee shop?

"Izzy?" I called, opening the door and soon I could smell the dinner: macaroni and cheese, our Friday thing. "You know you could - should - have ordered a pizza instead of getting into the kitchen with your hand in that state."

"And you know very well that for some unknown reason, we do not have a pizza delivery number."

"You do have a cell phone and internet in it, Izzy. Don't be a non-technological old woman."

"What if the pizza tasted terrible?"

"I could have bought us something from that Thai restaurant you like."

"I didn't want to bother you." I almost snorted, dropping my purse on the couch and going into the kitchen. "And my hand is not that bad." I saw her roll her eyes and pick up the pasta pot with both hands to prove her point. "You worry too much Al, you're going to have snow-white hair before your thirties."

"You're all I have left, stubborn sister of mine. I have to worry." I grabbed the bow she was holding, pointing to the chair where Izzy knew she should be. "And I'm the big sister. It's in the contract, I have to worry about you and take care of you more or less for the rest of my life. Get used to it."

I put some mac and cheese on a plate, glad to see my words had elicited a good laugh. Well, what didn't make Isabella laugh? My sister was constantly laughing. I don't know what would have been of us - of me - at the time of the accident without it.

"What do you think about eating in front of the TV, under the blankets?" I suggested, kicking my boots and heading for the living room.

"I'll get us Coke!"

And seconds later, we were both squeezed on the couch, sitting under a blanket, watching the beginning of Breakfast at Tiffany's. I've lost count of how many times we'd seen that movie, but for some reason, it was one of my favorites, and Izzy didn't mind re-watching as many times as I thought necessary.

_"Harry was the other man. I'm Sid, remember?"_  We already knew those lines from the heart.

"So, how was your day?"

"The doctor who helped me was really nice." I heard her fill our glasses as I devoured the pasta. It was as wonderful as ever. "Carlisle Cullen, does that name ring any bells?" It did not. "He seemed so familiar. For a moment, it was as if I already knew him."

"Little sister, did you hit your head in the fall?" I teased her, laying down my already empty glass of coke on the coffee table. "You must have been disoriented by the stunning beauty you said he had." She gave me a slightly annoyed look, returning her attention to the film.

_"... nothing could happen to him there."_

"Come on, don't get mad." I asked, my plate almost empty. Seriously, how could she cook so well? "If it's for you to smile I'll tell you that today at the store, shortly after I called you, I probably met the most good-looking woman on the planet." I said, remembering the woman with light brown hair and eyes between the yellow and the color of honey. It was strange, but with Isabella's comment, I finally discovered why I had liked her right away: the woman looked strangely familiar.

"Did you meet Marilyn Monroe's clone?" I raised an eyebrow. "Nevermind."

"What matters is that she made what I expected to be my commission for the whole month in a day, you have no idea how much this woman spent in the store! She was purchasing everything she touched!"

"I bet your boss was impressed." Impressed didn't make justice, Amanda practically stalked me for the rest of the day, trying to rip off my secret of success after the massive sale. That did not cheer up the other girls who worked with me, of course. In fact, for the rest of the afternoon, I was afraid to turn my back on them. "I think I'll see the model doctor in a few days." my sister said, pointing to the wristband she wore.

"Don't fall for him!" I teased, making Isabella once more roll her eyes.

"You know I won't." Izzy turned her attention back to the movie. "Isabella Thompson is not adept at dating, especially with older men."

"Sure, sure." It's always the same thing. "But someday things will change."

I dated some guys over my eighteen years and a few months, but Izzy, as far as I knew, had never even kissed a boy - or a girl whatsoever. Which I thought to be absolutely good, especially now that we had moved, but at the same time left me worried. My sister was almost eighteen, it was time to go out with someone, to have a broken heart, to overcome it, to live a little. I swore, before leaving Nashua, that something was going on between Isabella and that boy - James, argh. But when I asked my sister about it, the disgusted face she made was her most honest response.

'Christ Alice, we're just friends, you are terrible!'

_"But I'm crazy about Jose. I honestly think I'd stop smoking if he asked me to."_

"You know, I was reading the cards these days," I said, pointing to my tarot cards we both could see resting in the kitchen corner. "I was trying to dig a little bit into our future and-"

"And you did not see I would fall and almost break my arm today?" Isabella cut me off, faking indignation.

"I make mistakes, too!" She laughed as I smiled, trying to focus on the subject. "I saw you with a guy." I said, more seriously.

"Now that's news." My sister got up after pausing the movie, taking our empty plates to the kitchen. "I almost met a guy today. But I'm a walking disaster, and I fell before I had a chance to ask his name!" Isabella yelled from the other room as I listened to the dishes going to the sink. When she spoke again, she was already back into the blanket beside me. "Would you call me crazy if I told you I knew this guy, but can't remember where?"

"Was he from Nashua?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe he is." I saw her sigh, her good hand taking the glass of Coke. "He seemed so familiar, you know, his white skin, the color of his hair. I'm certain I know him. I just need to remember where I've seen him before."

I yawned, unable to contain my sleep any longer. Not even all that caffeine could make my eyes stay open.

"But anyway, it's not like I'm going to see him again." Izzy shrugged, and for a moment I saw an almost sad expression on her face. Or maybe all my sleep was already making me imagine things.

"I think this thing of seeing familiarity where it does not exist is some lack of caffeine and can be solved with a good night's sleep." I leaned my head against the couch, trying to get comfortable. My eyes were so heavy I was sure I wouldn't last until the end of the movie. "If I doze off, wake me up later, will ya?" I hardly heard her say yes before falling asleep.

That was the night the dreams began.


	5. Hope

_Esme's point of view._

It started with small fights, not more than one each month. We never really talked anymore. No one in the house could talk about a serious subject since that first year; not even Emmett would open his mouth to say what bothered everyone.

It didn't matter that years had passed by; it seemed so recent to all of us! I still stared at our door and waited for Edward to pass by at any minute, laughing as he implied with Jasper. I still-

I sighed, shaking my head.

Since the beginning of this year, it has been just the two of us in that house, too big for a couple, too small for all the fights. Emmett and Rosalie had finally given up and one day just packed up their things and disappeared into the yellow car that had once belonged to Alice. They didn't tell me where they were heading. I didn't care enough to ask, either. What did I care about these last few years?

Maybe Rose was right; maybe I only bothered with making the existence of everyone around me a living hell - as if our lives weren't bad enough. Shouts, hate speeches, an eternity in blaming my husband: accusing him of having transformed me, for making me lose a son once again, for not being brave enough to face our race in Volterra. As if anything he had done in his life was to harm me.

I always thought the first year was going to be the worst, with everyone mourning the loss. With me trying to get any reaction from Edward, trying to feed him somehow. With Carlisle no longer going to work and staying home to see if it would improve someone's spirit. He tried. And I blamed him even for that.

In the second year, Edward left. He went out the door one afternoon, without a word, and his father didn't try to stop him. Even Emmett tried to persuade him to stay, but it was useless: it was as if there was no more life in my son. He was just there, going somewhere he might not even know where cursing his eternal existence.

We didn't hear from Edward in all those years. Endless messages were left and never answered, but we hoped he found some strength to stay alive, somewhere, somehow.

It was in the third year that the real fights started. There were days when I could not bear to see Carlisle, let alone touch him. For a long time I considered leaving, distancing myself from everyone in an attempt to improve my temper, but how could I do this with what was left of the family? Jasper's decision to do what I wished had been sensible - to live feeling his constant suffering would only drive us mad, and he knew it as he walked out the door. I envied him for that. To have the possibility of walking away and starting a new life, becoming a history professor at Seattle University, from what I heard in one of the few conversations I had with my husband in the following years.

There was a time, by the fifteenth or sixteenth year, that for a moment everything seemed to have improved. We moved to Manchester, and the new air seemed to ease everyone's mood, especially mine - it was like the old times, just like before Bella. But Jasper's visit, after all this time, made everything fall once more. He still suffered so much, and I felt like I was betraying him for allowing me to be happy again. At the same time, I was angry with my son - which certainly had the most suffering life, and did not deserve to feel anything bad coming from me. It took only two days for him to leave the house.

After that event, the fights were much more constant. I wondered how Carlisle handled it every day when I - who started all the discussions - couldn't bear it.

It was already Friday afternoon, and the last time I had seen my husband that week was Monday morning. He returned home on Wednesday, but since the beginning of November Carlisle 'slept' in the hospital, taking all possible shifts. I tried not to think about our last fight, maybe the worst we've ever had. He didn't deserve to hear any of the words spoken with such bitterness, he deserved nothing of what I was doing - yet here he was, beside me, as if he were guilty of everything. What was I doing? Why couldn't I stop acting like that?

I called the hospital, even though I didn't have to worry about anything mundane. I didn't get the answer I wanted. Carlisle had left in the morning around seven, and they had not called him back for an emergency. I tried his cell phone, and it rang until it dropped into voicemail. It wasn't as if I had to worry, obviously he was okay. What could harm a vampire in the middle of Manchester?

But when I saw his Mercedes park in our garage, I was more relieved than I'd like to admit. I ran to him, and for a moment, again, I was the loving wife, happy that her husband had returned home safely. I hugged him hard, not even giving Carlisle time to take off his overcoat.

"Esme." And he smiled a smile that reached his eyes, before burying his face in my hair. His arms went around me, and for a little while, everything was right again.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, watching him hang his coat in the doorway, his arm returning to my waist, leading me to the sofa. It was only when we sat down that he spoke again.

"Better than okay." The smile had not left his face yet. "I had a rough day, there were some emergencies at work today, so I had to stay there for a while longer." I froze the same time I heard it, and my new tension did not go unnoticed. Once more, every bit of affection was gone. "My love, everything is-"

"You weren't at work. I know it." The next second I was standing on the other side of the room, trying to ignore the new pain building inside me. In all these years, however bad they have been, there has never been any lie. And now here he was, looking into my eyes and telling me that he was in the hospital as if he had spent all day there.

"Esme, please," his voice no longer sounded happy, though a smile still lingered on his lips. He tried to walk up to me, but that only made me walk away from my husband a few more steps. "Beloved, please-"

"Where were you?" I tried my best to leave my voice steady, but still, it ended up failing at the end, muffled with tears that would never fall.

I didn't know what to think. Where could my husband be for all this time, if not in the hospital? Running away from the bitter wife in the arms of someone nicer was the first thing that came to mind. When a partner lied, when a partner came home happier, however unbearable was his home, there was something. Someone. My greatest certainty, during all these years, was that Carlisle would never do this to me. But then, I also thought he would never tell me lies.

"Esme, it's not what you're thinking." He knew what I was assuming; he knew me so well. "You know I would never-"

"Just as I know you would never lie to me!" I took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm myself down. "What do you expect me to say? To feel? My God, you walked through this door smiling, I haven't seen you smiling since-"

"You have to listen to me, Esme! Of course I'm smiling, I-" The end was barely a whisper. "Esme, please-"

"I need to get out of here. I need to get away from you."

I didn't care what pain my words would cause. I took my purse, the Mercedes keys, and drove as far as possible from that house, from that life.

* * *

I stopped in a parking lot and spent a long time in the car before taking the courage to drive somewhere. Anywhere. The mall was crowded with people. I spent my time wandering through the stores, trying to regain any calm I had left in my being. Deep in my mind played memories of times where my daughter would take me shopping, making me spend the whole afternoon trying on clothes. Clothes, shoes, jewelry. She was so good at it. Losing an afternoon in a place like that was a way for me to try to relive the little that I had left of a happy life.

A red stone wrapped in a thin silver thread caught my attention, paralyzing me in front of a shop. So beautiful. Just like Alice would have liked - a delicate, refined necklace with a pendant of her favorite stone.

It was impossible not to enter the store. I went straight to an attendant, the only one available at that moment, but the words stuck in my throat as she turned to me.

I was so happy I couldn't cry.

"Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?"

Alice?

It wasn't real. It was my mind proving that vampires can indeed go crazy.

The voice was not the same; the smell was not the same. The hair, much longer than I had gotten used to seeing during those years. But her eyes did not lie. Even though they were clear blue, it was her eyes, so beautiful, so full of life. Her features. Her short size. It was her. It was Alice, it was my daughter standing in front of me, and that was impossible.

"Ma'am, is everything all right? Do you want to sit down?" I felt her hands touch my arm and forced myself to calm down for the second time that day.

Although I did not need it, I nodded and allowed myself to be dragged onto a chair by those warm, human hands. I had to restrain the urge to take the picture I constantly carried in my wallet and start comparing the two, to try to nullify my supposed madness.

"Would you like a glass of water?" I dared to look at her again, my eyes still doubting all the resemblance they saw. I took a deep breath as I realized I had stopped breathing, something very inhuman to do now, and her scent invaded my nostrils again. It was citric. It suited her so much.

"I'm sorry dear, I got a little dizzy. I'm all right now." I tried to smile and was surprised when it came naturally. "Sorry to bother you."

"Oh, no problem at all." She laughed in a careless way, making it even harder to suppress the will I had to hold her right there, for I knew the explanation that would follow would only make me look like I was crazy. "Honey, I'm looking for a necklace." It is possible I was. "My eyes caught one with a ruby stone pendant. Can I try it?"

"Absolutely!" Her smile opened even more, mine just mimicking that radiance. "Come with me, you show me the necklace you like and tell me about your preferences, and I show you some other necklaces you may like. Please ma'am, this way."

"Esme, dear," I said, touching her lightly on her arm. "Please, ma'am makes me feel too old." I got up, walking with her toward the front display.

"All right, Esme." She took a key from her pocket, opening the glass window and removing the necklace with the pendant. "It's a great piece of jewelry, this one!" My Alice said. "Can I offer you some coffee, maybe some water?

"No need."

"Okay. Can you hold here for a minute?"

"Sure." I answered, sitting back in the chair.

"Oh, by the way, my name is Alice."

And I stopped breathing again.

* * *

_Carlisle's point of view._

It seemed like forever since I'd seen her walk out the door. I looked at the wall clock marking eight pm. Eight hours and three minutes. Eight-eight. If only I had told her the truth at once, if I had not protected the person who mattered most to me in this world! Esme was already so hurt, and our relationship was already so broken.

The first time I'd found Edward after he left home was this year. I still don't know if by accident, or if he wanted me to find him. One day my son just started showing up in the cafeteria I frequented after work, where I always bought a decaf and a few minutes of quiet solitude. He still didn't say a word. Completely speechless. Always in the same clothes. His face was a little dirty, his bones too prominent. Even with all my years, I didn't know that it was possible for a vampire to languish like that. How long had he not fed? Why did he do this to himself, starve and put himself between so much blood? Why did he torture himself like that?

Today I found him again as I made my way back from the hospital. I didn't even think before I stopped the Mercedes and entered the cafeteria he was in, a cup full of black liquid cooling by his side. As I looked into those lifeless black eyes, I told him everything that had happened since his departure, and once again begged him to come home. Still, I got no answer, and after hours of talking to him, I got up and said goodbye.

And then, my eyes caught something that completely paralyzed me.

The resemblance was disconcerting: it was unlikely that there was someone so similar, both in smell and look. The girl in front of me was Bella, our Isabella! Even her name was the same. It was completely impossible.

It was a miracle.

I handed her my card, hoping to see her again. I had to see her again; I had to find out in what other ways the girl was like our deceased daughter. I needed to find out if this was real, or whether it was merely a daydream of a tired mind.

Driving back home, I concluded that the best thing to do was to let Esme out of it: how to say that I had met our daughter, dead for almost twenty years, in the middle of a coffee? And how would I explain what I was doing in the middle of a Starbucks?

But hiding something from her was clearly a bad idea, and now I prayed to God not to take away the last thing I had left. Give Esme the strength to return home.

When I finally saw her Mercedes entering the property, the sky was already filled with stars.

I didn't dare move before she stepped out of the car, leaving behind all the bags I could see through the glass windows. Was she still angry, still feeling betrayed? What did she want me to do? I would leave if she asked me to.

I could not bring myself to look into her eyes, closing mine as my mind began to imagine the worst. What would be the excuse now to start a fight? What would she accuse me of, how much more could I take in silence?

I heard familiar footsteps coming toward me, but what happened next was completely unexpected. Like that afternoon, when after all this time I saw a love spike in my wife's eyes before she hugged me, now she had practically thrown herself against me, arms squeezing me tight.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I held her strongly, my wife, my only love. How I missed having her in my arms like that! "I would never do that, I would never hurt you like this, Esme. I can beg you if you want me to, but please, please forgive m-"

"I think I've gone crazy, Carlisle." I felt her grip on my arms even more tightly before she lifted her head and looked me straight in the eye. Esme was smiling the truest smile I'd seen in years. "I think I've finally lost it." She started to laugh. "I spent all these years so angry, so hurt! I've made everyone's life a living hell! And today, I think I've finally gone crazy. "She laughed between the phrases, and for a moment I started to worry. What could have happened for her to come back and tell me all this? "Do you have anything to tell me, Carlisle? Because for real, maybe I went so crazy I wouldn't even care when I hear-"

"I found our youngest son, Esme." I saw the surprise in my wife's features. "I've met him for a while now, and I've been trying to get him to come back whenever I see him, but he's still the same. Just like the day he left our house. I've tried so hard, I know how it would help things, how much-"

"Have you seen Edward?"

"Yes, and that's what I did all day, I didn't tell you because I was trying to protect you in some way, I wanted to fix the situation first, but today a wonderful thing happened! Esme, if I told you- "

"I saw our daughter today." Isabella? "Alice. I know it's impossible, but please, let me believe it, I need to believe that." For a moment I thought it was too much, but the next second I found the courage to say the words I wanted to tell from the first moment I stepped into that house that Friday.

"My love, if you've gone crazy, I'm crazy too," I took a deep breath, a funny reminder of my human life that had not died in all those years. "Because this afternoon, I saw Bella in the cafeteria."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope the new readers are enjoying, and for everyone following, I think I can post the new chapter 'till the end of today. About Esme being a 'bitch', I know she may be a little OOC, but in the SM Universe, she didn't go through a situation like this, and that's how I imagined she'll act. And about Jasper, I don't know if I made it clear enough, but he was going to the Volturi to fight, unlike Edward in NM.
> 
> Any questions about the fic, you can always ask ;)


	6. Beginnings

_Bella's point of view._

It would have been much easier to walk to the hospital, no doubt about it: from the school to the address found on the small card; it was only a few blocks away. But then, I didn't feel like having Alice worrying about me all afternoon - she was such an overprotective sister. It would be best for my sanity as well as for hers if I just forgot to mention going to the hospital and getting on a bus after she dropped me home.

"Have a good one, you too!" I said to my sister, waving her goodbye before entering the house.

Not that I was dying to go to a hospital: nobody considered normal liked, let alone me. My sprain improved over the weekend, the purple was changing to pale green, and the swelling was almost gone. But then on Wednesday, I slipped, and the way I fell on my injured hand to save my guitar certainly made something worse, since I could barely hold my pen throughout the class today.

Well, he said I could come if there were any problem. It wouldn't exactly be a nuisance showing up at the hospital, or at least I hoped.

Putting the wristband inside my backpack, I pressed play on the iPod and started humming 'here comes the sun' while waiting for the bus 33343.

It took a little longer than I imagined getting to the hospital. The sudden rain didn't exactly help the city traffic, and it only made me annoyed that I hadn't remembered to put on a warmer jacket or bring an umbrella. An hour and a bunch of songs later, I finally got off almost in front of the hospital, thinking for a second if I dared to run to get rid of the thick drops of rain or would safely walk to the entrance.

I walked, of course.

Trying to ignore my now damp hair, I made my way to the front desk where a lady almost my grandmother's age was attending.

"I'm looking for Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I said, already a little nervous by the environment of the facility. The typical hospital odor made me shiver, and I thought it was funny — in a morbid way — that they all had that same smell.

"What?" she replied, louder than necessary, and I confirmed my assumption about her age was right.

"I'm looking for Dr. Cullen!" I ended up talking in the same volume as her. She smiled at me as she finally understood, pointing to the elevator to my right.

"Second floor, end of the hall, dear."

I picked up the elevator, and as soon as the doors opened, I saw a room with a golden sign on the entry: Dr. Cullen. I knocked once, twice, and after having no answer in the third, I risked twisting the knob. Empty. A citrus smell lingered in the air, very different from what I felt in the rest of that place, which made me want to come in to neutralize the one loaded with unpleasant memories.

A voice inside my head told me to wait for him to show up. It would be kind of strange entering without Dr. Cullen anyway; this room was his office, filled with personal belongings. I was about to close the door and venture around to try to find the model-like doctor when a picture frame caught my eye. After seeing what appeared to be his family, entering was automatic.

There he was, among three other boys, all wearing baseball uniforms. It seemed like a recent photo, for him didn't look a day older than when we met. The boys appeared to be in their twenties, the blonde one in his twenty-three at the most. But no matter how young they were, the boys certainly weren't Dr. Cullen's children: what are the chances, after all, of a thirty-year-old man to have biological children of twenty some? Maybe they were much younger brothers, nephews even.

One of them was gigantic and reminded me of a lumberjack of children's tales. The blondest one who seemed to be the oldest of the three had a kind look on his face, looking to his right rather than for the camera. When my eyes paused at the youngest, the same sense of familiarity I felt days ago struck me. The boy, holding a ball in one hand, the other messing his bronze hair, was no stranger to me. I knew him.

_'You don't play with them?'' I asked shyly to the woman next to me._

_'No, I prefer to referee — I like keeping them honest,' she explained with a smile._

_'Do they like to cheat, then?'_

_'Oh yes — you should hear the arguments they get into! Actually, I hope you don't, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves.'_

_'You sound like my mother.' I laughed, a little surprised by the resemblance. The woman was laughing too._

_I could smell the wet grass._

"She looks like my mother." What was this?

"I see my children caught your attention." My heart almost stopped at the sound of the voice, the fright making my reverie vanish into thin air. He didn't seem annoyed by my intrusion, but I felt completely ashamed to be caught in a room where I probably shouldn't be, seeing and touching things I didn't know I could.

I turned to face him with an already red face, putting the frame back on the shelf.

"Dr Cullen, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"Didn't want to enter a room where you would definitely come in for me to examine your wrist?" He laughed melodically, as he did when we met, one of his hands reaching for the picture.

"I should have waited for you, sir." I said, feeling my cheeks grow even redder.

"Carlisle, I've already told you." I heard a laugh again, at least someone was enjoying the moment. "Don't be silly, dear. There's no problem at all. See this one here?" He pointed at the bronzed-haired boy. "He's my youngest. He's not exactly mine - none of them is, to tell you the truth," he told me as if reading my thoughts. "My wife and I adopted the three when," I watched him pause, going behind his desk, sitting in his chair and gesturing for me to do the same with the one next to me. "When my oldest brother died."

Oh my God, he was the same boy I saw that afternoon! The coffee-guy, as Alice was already calling him - me and my inability to stay with my mouth shut near her. So he was the son he had mentioned that day.

I still could swear I knew him from somewhere, and this sense of familiarity was so damn confusing. It would be fun trying to explain it to someone: oh, I know who he is, I just can't remember where. I sat down in a black leather chair, wondering once more if the problem was my hand or my brain.

"He's very handsome." The words came out of my mouth before I could keep them for myself. Definitely, there was something very wrong with my brain.

"Yes, he is. He is a wonderful person, on the outside and inside." The doctor seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. "Well, let's get down to business, what did you do now? I already know you didn't come just to give me back the wristband."

"I fell," I replied, showing my hand. "Again. I just wanted to check if I did not break anything this time because I can't exactly hold a pen, and at this time of year being unable to write is a problem."

"Hmm." He went to my side, taking my hand carefully. "It's swollen." Again. "Does it hurt?" He pressed a point near my wrist.

"No." I tried relaxing as Carlisle did his exams. "It started to swell again yesterday after the fall, and I think I kind of leaned against it. Damn, in the morning my hand was already fine." I pulled my hand out as I felt his hand pressing a sore spot.

"Let's get an X-ray to be sure, but my best guess is there's nothing broken there." He took my hand again, pressing his fingers gently this time. "If you had broken something, it would be a little more swollen than that, and you would feel a lot more pain. Probably a few more days of care and immobilization, an anti-inflammatory and some painkillers, and your hand will be as good as new." He turned his attention to the computer, starting to type. "That is, if you don't fall on it again." Another laugh on his part - it was almost a hypnotic sound.

"I'll try hard to avoid this." I laughed a little myself. Talking to him was so relaxing! The world needed more doctors like that.

Minutes later Carlisle took me to the X-ray room, proving what he had said before: no recent fractures in my left hand. Giving me a prescription for an anti-inflammatory and some painkillers, and a handshake with my good hand, the doctor smiled as I thanked him one last time before closing the door.

The hospital smell came back and I immediately shivered. Going to the elevator, I tried to focus on something other than mom: think about that bizarre memory, brain. If I could call that a memory, because I was sure as hell I never lived that moment in my entire life. Yet I could feel the smell of grass, and I could see every single feature of that bronze-haired boy in my memory. So his last name was Cullen: no, it didn't ring any bells. Our family hadn't known any Cullen before I met this doctor, I was pretty sure. I didn't know that boy. And I didn't know why my brain was playing with me that way.

Only when I arrived at the entrance did I see how the weather was. I wasn't sure what was going on with my stupid head, but one thing was certain: with the rain falling outside, I would not go to any pharmacy today.

"Not even an umbrella." I sighed, overcome by all that water, taking the first step out of the hospital ready to be soaked in the rain. But a second passed, and I felt no water.

"I can give you a ride to the bus stop, or I can give you a ride home. What do you prefer?" Carlisle. What was he doing out there with an open umbrella over us? "But it would be undoubtedly great if you decided right away, this umbrella won't protect us much longer from all this water."

A ride would be fantastic with this weather.

"I don't want to be a nuisance?" I hoped for the answer to be no when I heard a rumble of thunder.

"You are not, child." Thank God. "The car is near here." And he led me to the uncovered parking lot.

When I recognize the car I was entering - with the doctor politely opening the door for me - I felt like a fool for wanting to give that wrist back - he should be very, very rich, he could buy a million of those if he wanted to. I knew he was a doctor, and knew doctors had a very wealthy salary, but how could such a young doctor manage to have a new Mercedes and keep a family of five?

"So, where are we going?" he asked, starting the car.

"The cafeteria where we met would be great," I replied, remembering I would have to buy some groceries anyway - we were out of so many things in that house. "Does it get too much out of your way, sir- I mean, Carlisle?"

"My house is also on the east side of the city, every day I pass by where we meet. Don't worry cause it's no problem to give you a ride, ok?" Those words already made me more relieved, I just hoped they were true. "So, your hand is depriving you of something other than making notes in class?" He asked, again making me feel relaxed to talk.

"Well, cooking gets a little harder with just one hand, my sister and I went by the week eating spaghetti with tomato sauce." I laughed as I remembered Alice saying that if she saw something other than instant pasta being made for dinner, she would lock the kitchen cabinets and carry the key with her.

"You mean you're the house cook? What about your mother?" The question caught me by surprise. It's been a while since the last time someone asked me about my parents.

"My parents died when I was little." And he seemed to be about to apologize when I kept talking. "Don't worry, it's been a long time already. And yes, I am the cook of the house. If I leave the kitchen in my sister's hands, she may burn even the tea water."

"Your sister is a lucky girl."

"Oh, she definitely is," I said, remembering how this statement was true. "She's almost a year older than me, and I know our age difference is not that big, but she was pretty much a mother to me." I smiled, looking out the window. The rain seemed to have subsided a bit. "We are lucky to have each other."

"I wanted my youngest to have this kind of bond with his brothers. He needed to be able to turn to one of the brothers to talk about his problems." Carlisle said after a minute of silence. He appeared to be about to say something else but seemed to give up after some thought.

"Your youngest was in the cafeteria that afternoon, right?"

"You saw him?" He looked curious.

"I think so." And I think I know him. I even have memories with him! Now please send me to a neurologist. "I knew the picture in your office looked familiar." I saw a strange smile forming on the doctor's lips.

"He was there, yes. That's why I was inside." He sighed. "We're having problems with Edward." Edward.

Edward Cullen.

_Edward Masen Cullen._

_Mrs. Isabelle Masen._

The cell phone vibrating in my pocket made me come back to reality. No. No, focus Isabella! Where did that come from?

"It's also not that great to play with my hand like this, either." I continued the conversation as I saw the messages left by my sister.

"You play?" Carlisle asked, looking surprised. "What do you play?"

"Guitar." But my guitar was dusting in the corner of my room since I arrived in Manchester. "In Nashua, where I lived before, I used to sing and play in a downtown bar every Friday night. The owner was an acquaintance of my grandparents, so even with me being underaged, he made some arrangements to make that happen. I miss playing for an audience.

"You recently moved here?"

"A few months ago." I confirmed it.

"If you want, I can talk to some colleagues. I know some great places where you can play here in Manchester."

"Seriously?" The question came out more excited than I intended. "I mean-"

"It would not be a bother." He seemed to foresee what I was going to say. "Call me when your hand improves, ok? I won't promise anything, but I will try my best to find someplace for you." My smile was huge at the end of his sentence.

"This possibility is already more than I could expect." I only realized the car had stopped when I heard the unlocking of the doors. The heavy rain stopped as well, now barely a drizzle.

"Do you need help with anything else?" He asked, pointing at my injured hand.

"You did more than enough." I smiled. "Thank you so much for the ride. You saved me from another fall, probably."

"It was a pleasure, child," he replied, smiling back as I closed the door and walked along the sidewalk, watching the car disappear as I turned the corner.

I took the phone out of my pocket to see the time - almost seven - and then I noticed the new messages along with a missed call. I went into the groceries' store, tossing some bundles of pasta into the cart while returning to my sister after reading her desperate texting demanding to know if I was alive.

"Al, -"

"I tried calling you all afternoon!"

"Al-" I tried again, grabbing my wallet as I got to the cashier.

"You don't ignore your older sister's calls all afternoon! I must have called you a hundred times-"

"Alice, listen to me!" How could such a small being be so irritating? "First, there were five messages, not like hundreds of calls. Second, I went to the hospital to check my wrist. And I need you to go to the pharmacy for me, okay?" I ignored her, once more complaining, while receiving my change. "Al, I'll send you a pdf of my prescription, ok?" I said, hanging up before she could say anything.

I left the market, tossing my cell phone into my backpack and crossing the street. All that rain had exclusively made the weather even colder in this icy city, and I realize had two options right now: be brave and walk this last block in this freaking cold to get home, or try to warm up a little with a cup of coffee before venturing farther down the cold street. Needless to say, I chose option number two, and seconds later my feet took me inside Starbucks.

"A medium white mochaccino with extra whipped cream, please." I could already taste the wonderful caffeine in my mouth. I loved Chantilly, I loved chocolate, I especially loved coffee.

I sat down in a chair I'd christened as my own in those last few months, dropping my backpack and groceries on the table. I was enjoying the scent of that place, the smell of coffee taking away all the hospital memories, when my eyes saw something that caught my total attention.

The bronze-haired guy, again. In the very same place of that first time. He looked thinner than his picture, paler, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent. Even so, incredibly beautiful.

What kind of problems could this guy have? And more importantly, why was I showing myself interested enough to be going to his desk to ask?

"Isabella, white mochaccino with extra whipped cream!" Saved by the coffee. I retreated to the delivery counter, grabbing my cup and returning to my chair.

Did he always stay around here? If so, how I didn't notice him before? I practically went every day to this cafeteria!

The coffee was already ending when I saw him move for the first time. I was on my feet before I realized when I saw him throw the glass in the trash. As much as I did not know him, I needed to talk to him to at least try to dispel any funny feeling of familiarity I had - with a total stranger. It worked with Carlisle, all the talk of today has made me see I should have had this sense of intimacy because of his enormous sympathy.

But how could I feel this for someone I had not even exchanged a word with?

When I realized I was walking towards him.

 _'He's beautiful, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date._ Apparently _, none of the girls here are good enough for him. '_

What?

"Excuse me-"

"Bella?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everyone wondering if the girls look/smell the same, pretty much the same, yes. Bella's only difference is her hair, wavier and longer. Alice has blue eyes, and her hair is shoulder heigh, and well, her scent is human-like. But just by looking at them, the Cullens recognized that yes, they could be the girls they had lost.


	7. Awakening

_Edward's point of view._

The first year was a blur. It was pitch-black. It was the only thing I could remember, spending almost twelve months in a row sitting in the corner of my room. Just thinking of her, seeing her face even with my eyes closed. For the first few weeks, I would hear Esme or Carlisle talking, trying to get some reaction from me. Didn't they see I just couldn't give what they wanted? That I didn't care about anything else?

As time passed, I could barely notice if anyone was around me. I felt myself dying from the inside out, and my mind was constantly planning. At the first chance, I will go to them. There was no one else to stop me now. There is no longer any reason to live forever, now. But how could I get to Volterra if I barely had the strength to move a millimeter?

They might think it was foolish to behave that way, like a teenager losing his first great love. I thought they were right: I lost my first grand — and probably my only — love. After so many years pursuing a love like that, desiring a love like Bella, only to enjoy less than a year of the pleasantest thing life could give to me. What I felt in her absence was already overwhelming; to know I would never see her again. I had no words to describe the feeling.

I'm not quite sure how much time passed until the day that made me come to my decision. I knew I would go to Volterra the day I felt a warm touch on my face, and for a second I inhaled a scent so familiar, so soothing. I allow myself to fantasize for a few seconds more: I would open my eyes, and she would be there beside me, telling me that it was all a dreadful dream. That she was and would be there with me forever.

My Bella.

Opening my eyes was like waking from a beautiful dream: there was no one in front of me.

I did not dare to breathe anymore.

* * *

The following thing I remembered was being in Carlisle's office minutes before abandoning my family. I had gathered my last strength to confront my father - the hardest to face. I handed him a piece of paper, and the next moment he was hugging me, sobbing without tears. The written word told him everything he needed to know.

_Please._

The funniest thing was that I never got to Volterra, but not because anyone had prevented me. I would never be able to set foot in Italy again. It was too much to go there.

When I left the house, I started driving, always surpassing the speed limit, as if that would make me feel better. I would stop when the tank emptied, or when my mind was so full of the love I lost that not even driving was possible anymore.

After a while, I had no idea where I was, the only thing registered by my brain was the fact I was still in the same black Volvo, my foot sunk on the accelerator. And Bella, always on my mind. The last time I'd seen her face, a mask of pain that I had caused her to feel. That face would torment me forever, crucifying me day after day. I knew that if I took a deep breath, maybe I could clear my head a bit, but I didn't dare to breathe anymore. I would never get that last breath of her scent out of my lungs, no matter how the smell must have been only the impression of a troubled mind. It was the only thing I had left, and I would fucking hold that forever.

For a while, that was enough. And then Volterra started to come back to my ideas, as I began to realize I undoubtedly should have lost all sanity.

_'Don't do it.'_

It was her voice, whenever my thoughts turned to the ancients of our race. The planning of my suicide started to be the single thing my mind could think about, just to listen to her voice. Although that voice reassured me, every word was like a cut on my body: to be aware that she had existed, and I was to blame for her tragic end.

The pain was excruciating. It was torture.

And I rightfully deserved it.

Sometime later, even the voice began to die in my mind. It is possible there was no more part of my body to be cut. I started to recognize what was around me. How long have my eyes remained closed? How long had I been in that car?

Where were you, Bella?

I looked at the silver electronic abandoned in the passenger seat. I let go of the leather steering wheel, only now noticing my fingers had held it so tightly they left deep marks, and turned on my old cellphone. I could hear the sound of the rain outside.

"You have seven new messages. First message."

Esme.

_"Edward, please, just... stay alive. Please."_

"Message deleted. Next message"

Carlisle.

_"Edward, we know you didn't make it to Volterra. We just want to know how you are. Please, son, get in touch."_

"Message deleted. Next message."

Rosalie.

_"Edward, stop behaving like a fucking baby! Can't you see that we're all suffering? Why-"_

"Message deleted. Next message."

_"Please ... please come back."_

"Message deleted. Next message."

Rosalie, again.

_"Congratulations Edward, it's been ten years."_

"Message deleted. Next message."

_"Son ... I miss you."_

"Message deleted. Next message."

Emmett.

_"We're moving out. I hope you find some peace, brother."_

"Message deleted. You have no new messages."

I closed my eyes once more when I noticed the surroundings: I was in the middle of what seemed to be our meadow.

* * *

When my eyes opened again, a bright light spread through the car. It was the dawn of a new day, the sun coming out from behind the clouds. The light of a new day. The sun, warm on my skin. She was my sun - my warmth. Once again I was filled with dry sobs, and I realized what the emptiness in my chest was: my heart, she stayed with it.

Isabella made me feel human. I felt my frozen heart for the first time when our skin made contact - she made me melt with her warm touch. She was so warm, so passionate, so alive. So disconnected from the fact that it was a monster that touched her and not an angel as she always said. How I longed to have those arms around me again!

My sun was gone, but the human part of me was still there. Emotions were still there. The pain will always be there.

I pinned my fingers to the steering as if I needed something — anything — to keep me from being torn apart again.

I was broken, and it was beyond repair. I was in a million pieces. And they would never — could never — be together again.

And now, I just existed.

* * *

At the beginning of that year — 2025, as the newspaper informed me — Carlisle had found me by chance inside one cafe, and now he devoted hours, sometimes even the whole day, relating me how things were in the house, with our family. From what I could hear, the situation was not one of the bests, but how could my presence improve anything? He was insane to believe that.

I didn't — couldn't — answer him, but I didn't run either. At the minimum, I owed him that much.

He showed up almost every day now, yet I kept going to the same place. I didn't comprehend what had gotten me there the first time, but there was something almost calming in this place from the first time I entered.

It was just about eight o'clock, and I knew that in a few minutes the place would close. Another wandering night in the streets.

I walked to the trash can and threw out my still full cup of coffee, and was going to the door when I heard her name after so long.

It hurts so much.

It will never heal.

"Bella?"

Exhaling the air was involuntary, I only just perceived what I had done when it all came out of my lungs. For one second I went through despair, but when I breathed in again — a humane reflex — it was like that day in my old room. I never thought I would feel it again.

It was, undoubtedly, her scent.

* * *

I had at last gone mad, completely lost my mind, after all those years. It was the only plausible explanation. I ran, far away from the cafeteria, toward the direction that had been in my pocket for some time already.

Son, if you ever change your mind, you can find us here.

How could my mind play such a sophisticated trick? The image, the smell, even the voice, every detail had been so real that it was disconcerting. But it wasn't real, she couldn't be real, it was all the result of my already ruined mind, and I needed to learn it from someone who would forever tell me the truth, however painful it was.

I should be close by now, the house was not that far from where I had dropped a ten-dollar bill a few minutes ago. The houses grew bigger and soon the number 2855 appeared. Although it was unnecessary — the Mercedes parked in the garage and the large well-kept property denounced that this was the right house — I went back to check the address number written on paper in perfect handwriting. 2855. I made sure there was no one around before jumping the gate and running to the front door.

Edward?

It was the first thought I had heard clearly in all those years. I didn't have to knock, Carlisle was already waiting for me with the door wide open.

"I want to hear it from you!" I screamed, but the voice was hoarse after so many years without using it. "Tell me I'm crazy, that after all these years, it finally happened. We can go insane, can't we?"

Son? Esme appeared half a second later behind my father, and I tried not to look into her eyes, frightened by what I might find in them. Oh, Edward-

"Esme, just don't." I didn't want to listen to her thoughts. However, I deserved to hear them, deserved to see how much I had caused and still cause pain. But the words I heard weren't the ones I expected.

"What?"

"Son, did you see her too?" See her too? "It was her, wasn't it? If you recognize her, it's because it is really-"

It was true.

There's a reason to live again. All I ever wanted back, strange as it was. A second chance, to start all over again. To not commit the mistakes of the past.

I had so much to fix.

"Dad, mom," my chest no longer ached. The pain of so many years had gone away so fast with just a few words that it was almost scary. "Is she really Isabella?"

Just wait until you see Alice.

"Alice? Alice, how-"

I couldn't finish the sentence. Feeling happiness again was so strange, it had been so long, I could barely remember what it was like. I could not hold a sob any longer, and seconds after two pairs of arms wrapped around me, my parents, which I made suffer so much for all those years. It was as if I had just spent a few days away.

All that time seemed to be left behind. When I opened my eyes again, I felt I had finally escaped from a bad dream. It was as if I was waking up.

* * *

_Bella's point of view._

"Bella?" I heard my name before I could capture the attention of the bronze-haired guy. Seriously, universe? Again? "Are you not going to say hi to an old friend?"

"James?" I recognized the voice before turning to see who it was. After all, who was my only friend in the world that called me Bella? It had been less than half a year, but his voice sounded so different! It was thicker, more masculine even, but as I turned, I saw the same blue eyes of the boy who had been my neighbor for so long in Nashua. "Jamie!"

For a moment I completely abandoned what I was about to do and hugged my childhood friend. We had known each other since I was four — he was five and a half years old at the time, as he liked to point out — and we became good friends from the beginning. My sister was jealous at first, but over time she got used to having Jamie with us. And then the accident happened, and our friendship seemed to strengthen even more, with him always there by my side, saying nothing bad would happen and that everything would be all right.

"It's so good to see a familiar face in this city!" A real familiar face. I took a chair and sat down, and it was only then that my eyes returned to the table next to it, now empty. I can't believe I lost him again! "What are you doing here? You didn't even text me to say you were coming!"

"It was a last-minute thing, Bella. Actually, I'm expecting a friend. I have some things to solve till the end of this night." he explained, twisting his long, curly hair in a bun. "I'll have to come to Manchester often in the next few months," James announced, getting his coffee. "I will text you next time. We can go to a Chinese restaurant, remember the old days. What do you say?"

"You make me feel seventy instead of seventeen saying things like that." We smiled. It was good to know there was somebody around I could count on, even if only once in a while. "You have my number, Jamie. Next time you're in town, and you're not that busy, have the decency to call me."

"Surely will." he replied, pulling one chocolate bar out of his backpack and handing it to me.

"James-"

"For the old times, when I was a kid and always said that when I received my first paycheck, I would buy you ice cream." Oh, how did he remember that? "I have a fucking great paycheck now, by the way," he said proudly. "I'll get you an ice cream next time I see you."

"Thank you, James," I said, getting up. "Will you meet your friend here?" James confirmed.

"And you're going, apparently."

"I still need to cook my dinner. Our home is on this block if you ever need shelter in Manchester."

"Text me the address. See you soon, shorty." James said, waving goodbye as I walked out the door into the frosty night.


	8. Stranger from my dreams

_Alice's point of view._

_I noticed the door opening after hearing the bell ring. A tall man, thin but well defined, walked into the room. Despite the faint light, his crescent-shaped scars were visible on both forearms, thanks to the folded shirt sleeves. His clothes were worn out, his blond honey-like hair wet from the rain outside._

_And he was walking towards me._

_Suddenly, I felt nervous. His red eyes seemed to examine my golden ones, and I didn't quite know what to do or what to say. In my nervousness, I smiled at him and was relieved when the stranger returned the gesture._

_The man approached quickly, and soon he was in front of me. For a moment I thought of jumping from my chair to his neck, for all the happiness that dominated me, but something told me to take it easy. Don't scare the shit out of him. I waited for so long, what would be a few more seconds?_

_He pulled up a chair, sitting down beside me._

_"You've kept me waiting for a long time." I said, at last._

_"Sorry, ma'am." God, he was even more attractive in person._

_I held out my hand to him, our eyes still locked, and he took it without hesitation._

_"I'm so glad I finally found you." I felt so protected by his side. "I know I have so much to explain," I said in a whisper, and before I could continue he cut me off._

_"It can wait." His sentence took me by surprise, and he smiled as if he knew I had been surprised._

_Exactly as it should be._

_"At least until the end of the storm. Then we can talk about it all."_

_"We don't need to talk about anything." I placed my other hand over his one, still looking at his red eyes. God, I didn't want to close my eyes ever again. I could spend an eternity getting lost on this man. "I have been waiting for you for over a decade. We don't need to talk right now, Jasper."_

_"I don't want to make you wait another minute," he assured me. "Wha-"_

_"Alice. My name is Alice."_

...

I already knew that dream by heart - a dream I dreamed over and over for the last seven days. It was downright odd, it seemed as if I knew all this as if I had indeed experienced those scenes. And that man, so unique, so perfect - too perfect for me. For all one knows the long hours of work near Christmas were driving me crazy, after all.

I sighed, smoothing my shirt in front of the store mirror. Maybe it was all that rain that scared the customers away. Because of that, I had a lot of free time today, and that was never good: my mind was always going back to all the things I should not be thinking about.

It was seven fifty-five and my shift ended in five minutes, thank GOD. Even though I just knew no one would enter, I waited until seven fifty-nine before picking up my purse and checking my phone: no missed calls or messages from my sister. Izzy was going to the hospital this afternoon and promised me she would call if there was something wrong, so assuming there was nothing from her on my phone's display, everything had probably gone smoothly - a first with this girl.

I hurried out the door, almost running to the ladies' room to change into my regular clothes, but I still couldn't get away fast enough from a barista who for some reason in the last month started to stalk me, for lack of a better word.

"Hey, Al! Al, wait!"

"Hi, Michael." I forced a smile on my face when I turned to face him, but it did not slow me down. Soon I would get to the bathroom, and soon he would hopefully stop following me.

"What are you doing tonight? I have no plans for this Friday, so I thought we could-" You never have plans for Friday nights, that's what I wanted to tell him. Or that his plans existed, but for some unknown reason, he insisted on placing me in them, no matter how often I gave him a no.

But I was too polite to answer any of the above.

"I'm heading home. I'm dreadfully tired. I think I'm getting the flu."

"Want me to go to the pharmacy with you?" Would he never give up?

"Thanks, but Isabella already went to get what I needed." I lied, thanking the heavens when the bathroom door was in my sight. "Maybe another day." I put my sweetest smile and disappeared through the door.

Not that Michael didn't possess any good qualities. On the contrary, he had everything I appreciated on a man. He was good-looking, tall, with blue eyes and black hair, had a great personality and seemed to be a great company to go out with, really. I just couldn't. I didn't want to abandon my sister Friday night, and I certainly would not invite her to come along, because knowing Michael, he would surely make it a double date. Maybe when she comes to have some good friends here, who could keep her company. Perhaps then I would finally say yes to his invitations.

I left the bathroom and walked for a few minutes until my eyes found a perfect couple at the entrance of the mall. A tall, fair-haired man in his early thirties and a woman in gorgeous clothes talked as they passed by me. Wasn't that the woman for that other day, the gorgeous, wealthy one?

And that other man who walked behind them? He seemed considerably younger, maybe in his twenties. It is possible he was a younger brother of the older one, they were so much alike! So much alike, and the blonde was so, so familiar.

_"Have you lost your mind? Alice, for God's sake, for everything that's most sacred-"_

_"Don't follow me."_

_"How can you ask me that? This time Edward crossed the line-"_

_"We're going to get out of Volterra. I promise, Jazz! I'll be back, you know it!"_

_"Al-"_

_"Trust me, Jazz."_

_"I can't lose you, Al."_

_"You won't. I love you."_

I blinked once, twice, three times. What was that?

"Wha-?"

I saw myself, speaking on a cell phone, sitting inside a plane. I haven't even got near a plane in all my life!

I shook my head - bullshit.

When I looked back to where the three of them were, there was no one else. I was almost disappointed if there wasn't a clock telling me it was already so late. Going back to my car, I checked my phone once again before dialing my sister's number on the way home.

...

_Bella's point of view_

_"So you're afraid of heights?"_

_Afraid didn't precisely define: I was scared to death of high places. The farther away from the ground, the greater the fall. The boy, so handsome, sitting next to me, seemed to amuse himself with my theory. That smile was so attractive. Those eyes had so much life. Those eyes..._

_I snorted, why did he laugh at what made perfect sense to me? But when his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer, I knew I couldn't get mad at him. The power he had over me was so irritating sometimes._

_"I'm sorry, my love. I thought your fear was limited to small things, like needles." I saw him roll his eyes at the word 'needles', and I hit his chest with my hand - hard as a rock._

_"Needles are scary, do not mock me!"_

_He silenced me with a quick kiss on the lips._

_"It proves you still have salvation." I felt a hand poking my head. "That this works in a normal way once in a while."_

_I restrained myself from snorting again. How could he be so beautiful and so annoying?_

_He stood up, holding out his hand._

_"Come on." Once more that smile made me feel dizzy. How could I say no to him when he could smile like this? "Let's cure your fear of heights. Get on my back."_

_"No way."_

_"Bella-"_

_"I'm going to fall! I'm going to fall and break my leg, my arm, or my nose - if I'm on a lucky day!"_

_I saw him turn his head, looking at me with a bored expression._

_"Do you really believe I'd let you fall?" The next second I was on his back. "I'll never let anything - or anyone - hurt you. Now be a good girl and keep your arms tightly around my neck."_

_"Don't go too fast!" I almost screamed, already a little desperate for the new height as he got to his feet. "Please!"_

_"My life, trust me."_

_Then he jumped._

...

"Izzy!" I heard a voice scream from afar, pulling me out of my sleep.

Of my sleep?

"Damn."

I opened my eyes at the same time I heard the front door open. The electronic clock on the coffee table marked nine o'clock. It was as I had imagined: I had fallen asleep on the sofa seconds after turning the TV on. Alice was at my side seconds later, looking at me a little grumpily, phone in hands.

"Four times and you didn't answer once. You know, you should take the phone off the mute once in a while, phones are made to be used." Alice snorted, heading for the kitchen. All afternoon sleeping resulted in no homemade dinner - okay, we could always order a pizza. My sister giggled as if guessing my thoughts. "Relax Izzy. I stopped by the Chinese we love." She came back with two boxes and two pairs of chopsticks.

"I don't know why I slept so deeply, Al." I stood up, letting the blanket fall as I stretched. I was not a heavy sleeper, on the contrary: any noise could wake me up.

"No problem." She opened her box, picking up a piece of fried chicken. "Sorry for being such a neurotic sister."

I smiled, thanking the heavens that she didn't look annoyed anymore. The last time the phone was ignored, I heard Alice's strident voice until I laid my head on the pillow. She could be pretty crazy when she wanted to, but then, it was a sister thing, right?

"Vampire Diaries?" she asked, pointing to the TV. "This Damon is so freaking hot!"

We began to eat in silence as we watched the episode, each caring less about the plot. I couldn't shake off the dream I'd had a few minutes ago. That boy was already tormenting my nights for a while now, just over a week — every single day. In my dreams, I knew he was gorgeous, but then I would wake up and his face would simply vanish from my mind. Every day, everything became blurry after opening my eyes.

"How's the hand?" Alice asked, devouring her food.

"The doctor told me to take the anti-inflammatory for a couple of days and to go back to the hospital for anything different I noticed," I said, almost halfway through my food box.

"The handsome doctor?" I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, Al, the handsome doctor."

"I wish I could find one of those at the mall." she sighed, already biting her last piece of meat.

Alice had gone out with some boys, just before we left Nashua. I remember one who went looking for her at our old house a few days before we left - a very handsome boy. His name was Laurent, as I recall. He had an exotic beauty, and seemed to treat her so well - I wondered what made the two stop seeing each other. Days before we moved he didn't show up anymore. Al said it was easier this way, not to cling to anyone like that. She was still young, and we still had a lot to do before getting serious about relationships - maybe Laurent wanted something real back then.

But I always thought that when - if - I got someone, things would be different. Alice wouldn't have to worry about her little sister staying home alone while she was on a date. She wouldn't have to come back on Friday because I was alone, and could finally live the love life that I knew she wanted to have.

Or it could get worse, and she'd start worrying twice as much.

"Were you playing?" Alice said looking at the guitar resting against the sofa.

And oh my God, how could I completely forget to tell her that? And how had I managed to go to sleep and not practice anymore? It's tomorrow!

"Al, the handsome doctor-"

"Like music?"

"Alice!" I rolled my eyes, putting my empty box on the coffee table. "He knows a few pub owners here in Manchester, and I mentioned I performed back in Nashua, and-"

"Are you going to do the same here in Manchester?"

"I'd get some money, at least." But my sister did not seem very happy with the idea.

"Izzy, you know you don't have to worry about money. We have enough to keep us going, and always have my salary." She spoke in a serious tone.

"The interview is tomorrow."

"Interview?" she said, frowning. "You have to do one for singing and playing?"

"Come on, Al. I miss doing that."

It was one of the things I remembered about our mother, and it was the only thing I hated to leave behind in Nashua. My mother played the piano and guitar very well, and her voice was angellike. The two of us, playing the piano together was one of the few — most cherished — memories I had of her. Not that a four-year-old could get anything right, but I was not that bad. And those were memories that came out stronger as I played.

"Tomorrow."

"If you insist," she said, faking a painful expression on her face as she stood up. "I'm going to have to make an effort to find a dress for my little sister to go to her musical interview tomorrow," and she would soon pull me off the couch. "After all, you have an irritating inability to choose the right outfit."

"Al!" She hurried to my room, laughing all the way. And for a few seconds, I stood in the living room, wondering what I almost always asked myself: how could such a small person be so annoying?

"Since when do you have this horrible green shirt in your closet? Who gave you that, my God?" I heard her almost scream, throwing a dark green piece of clothing out the door. "Green is definitely not your color."

I turned off the TV and went into the bedroom, preparing myself psychologically to try at least a dozen different outfits.

"Same for yellow!"

Yeah, it would be a long night.


	9. Savior

_Bella's point of view._

"I got it!" I talked excitedly with Alice on my phone, hurrying out of the bar. My sister, on the other end of the line, wanted to know everything and was in absolutely no hurry to hang up.

The pub's owner was a pleasant man, who appeared to be in his seventies. I thanked the heavens for having practiced the right songs - three songs from the 70s, 80s, and 90s, respectively, were enough to win my place on the stage. Charles wrote down my number in a notebook and gave me his card, explaining a bit more about the event he would need me in, and what kind of music he would like me to rehearse for the day.

"He said he couldn't promise me a lot of work, but would call me every time he needs me. And my first gig will be on New Year's Eve, can you believe it?" I hung the guitar on my back and began to hasten my pace as I looked up at the sky: it seemed like a world of water would fall on me at any moment now.

"I knew you could do it, Izzy!" Alice said as excitedly as I. "Celebrate dinner tonight! Let's go to that Mexican we love, what do you think?"

"Can't wait!" I felt the first drop on my face and thought of running, but ended up deciding not to risk my luck so much. "Al, it's going to rain cats and dogs here, I need to hurry. Talk later, okay?"

I said goodbye to my sister, tossing the cell phone back into my purse and heading to the bus stop. I hurried as I felt the drops grow heavier, hearing the first thunder. Damn, some good five minutes until I get to the stop - unless I used this backstreet to try to cut the way. Between running and entering the not so illuminated alley, I decided what I thought, of course, less dangerous: the second option.

It was a narrow space between two huge buildings, without much illumination within daylight, even less so in that stormy weather. But it was shorter than walking down all the block. Sure there would be no problem. I'm halfway through already, anyway. I rushed my walk a little more as I felt more drops drip onto my skin - why did I keep forgetting my umbrella? - until something held my hand.

Someone.

A cry came from my lips before I could control myself.

"Hey, princess, why so scared?" What the hell?

I was sure I didn't know that hoarse voice, and definitely, pulling me so close was no good sign at all. Shit, I'm going to get mugged. Shit, there's no one around to help me, no one will listen if I scream. Shit, shit, shit.

"You can take my purse. You can even take the guitar. I won't scream, seriously." I said with a heavy heart: the guitar was the only material memory I kept of mom. "Just don't-" But a hand that smelled of cigarettes and booze covered my mouth, and the man pushed me against one of the walls.

"Just don't what?" he asked in a harsh voice, and I felt my stomach turn, burning with the desperation that was taking me over. Shit, I wasn't about to be robbed.

I tried to move, but he was too strong for me to push him out of me and try to run up the street lighter. The rain began to rise even more, and the drops that dripped on my face started to mingle with my tears. The feeling of powerlessness only increased when I felt a hand wandering through my body. God please, anything but that.

"Mmmmm!" Even with a blade pressed against my throat, I kept trying to make some noise. But I knew it would be useless to scream now: the rain was falling so hard that the little noises I was making were canceled out by all the sounds of the storm. I closed my eyes when I felt the armed hand go to my waist, and I was already preparing for the worst when his movement suddenly stopped.

But I was not prepared for the cry that followed.

For a moment I could have sworn I heard a growl. Suddenly, the man wasn't forcing me against the wall anymore, and my trembling legs couldn't hold me up alone, making me fall on my knees on the wet floor. When I opened my eyes again, I found the guy being forced against the bricks, one of his hands twisted awkwardly. He still had not stopped screaming, and the scent of blood in the air was sickening. Looking closely, I could see what was wrong with his arm: an open fracture.

"If you ever get near her again, I'll break the rest of your bones." The threat came from the bronze-haired guy who had come out of nowhere. "Run now!" He didn't need to be told twice.

I saw my guitar being lifted off the ground — I didn't even realize it had fallen — and soon after I was raised by a pair of strong arms. When I finally looked at the man's face, I recognized his features instantly.

The guy from the cafeteria.

My savior.

"Are you ok?" I nodded, still absorbed in his black eyes, as dark as the stormy sky. His eyes were dark brown, then? I could swear I saw yellow on that afternoon. "Hold on to my neck. Try to hold tight." The voice had a serious tone, and I did what was asked without questioning.

Suddenly we were walking towards the busy street, stopping in front of a black Volvo, as dark as his eyes. He opened the car door and put me in the passenger seat, throwing my guitar in the back before slamming the door.

I saw him grab the steering wheel as if that was keeping him from doing anything he would regret. There were marks on that wheel, but I couldn't imagine what could have done that at the moment - surely not his hands. Before I knew it, one of my hands had touched his arm, and his eyes turned at me again.

I was mesmerized by those eyes. Or maybe I was a little in shock, and my brain was finding ways to distract me.

"God, you're shaking," he said, looking worried, and started taking off his coat. "We need to warm you up a little."

"No-" But he didn't even let me start talking: before I could say another word, the thick coat, too big for my small size, was already over me.

"There you go." His hands skillfully adjusted the jacket around me, folding the sleeves and closing the front zipper. "You're going to heat up in no time."

I nodded and only then broke eye contact. He kept watching me, but somehow my mind began to wander to what might have happened to me minutes ago had he not showed up. I was warm, but I just couldn't stop shaking - I only realized my tears were falling when I felt a cold touch on my face.

"Talk to me." But I could not utter a word. It felt as if all my muscles were sore, and the throbbing on my head was beginning to become unbearable.

I wanted to thank him for saving me from a situation that might as well have ended my life, but my thoughts were too confused. I registered that I had opened the door only when my head was between my legs as I vomited a dark yellow liquid: bile.

He was pulling me back into the car, after making sure there was nothing left for me to throw up. I closed my eyes — more out of fatigue than embarrassment — and felt him fasten my seatbelt.

"You're going to be fine, Bella. No need to be afraid, I'm here with you. No one will ever hurt you again." Was I really hearing this, or was I already in a dream world? Had I said my name to him?

The last thing my brain registered was the car starting. Seconds later, everything went black.

* * *

_Alice's point of view._

The sky was cloudless when I ended the call with my sister: it was now pitch black. How could the weather change so fast in this city? I sighed as I recalled my car was parked too far away, making it impossible to get to it before the rain started to fall stronger.

Damn it.

I ran to the small diner I sometimes went to during my work breaks, cursing once again Manchester's weather. Why in the hell did we choose this place to move? We were already at the end of November, where was my fucking snow?

I chose a table to sit as far away as possible from any window, putting my shopping bags in a chair next to me. Lightning struck the sky, making me shrink in my place. Does it need to rain so hard, right when I'm in the middle of my shopping? I loved the nostalgic feeling brought by the snowflakes. I absolutely hated the way a storm made me feel. Whenever it rained like that, only a memory kept looping through my head, and no, it wasn't a good one.

"Is this seat taken?" A male voice pulled me out of my nagging thoughts, pulling the chair in front of me and sitting down before getting an answer. Great, now besides coping with my massive fear of storms, I'd have to deal with a man wanting to flirt with me. Such a terrific Saturday, what else could go wrong?

"Now that you've already decided for us both, you can as well stay." I snorted, not even looking at him before asking the waitress for a cup of coffee. A boiling coffee, that was all I needed to get my head out of the enormous storm.

The waitress soon arrived with a jar and a cup, but when I first inhaled that perfect scent, it was not just the smell of coffee that passed my nostrils. There was also a pleasantly sweet scent. Definitely didn't match my non-sugary strong drink. Definitely tainted the bitter flavor of my caffeine.

Only after giving one sip was my eyes made contact with the stranger sitting in front of me. Two thoughts came at once: wasn't he cold wearing only a shirt? And what the hell did he do to get so many scars on his forearms? I knew it was rude to stare, but I was unable to tear off my eyes from the half-moon shaped marks.

Only when I gasped the stranger noticed the marks showing, and in the same second, he started to pull back the wet sleeve of his shirt to cover them.

"Sorry." He looked uncomfortable now, arms completely covered. I could still see a mark on the hand he let on the table, between his thumb and forefinger. "Sometimes I forget about those. I think it's better-" The man started to get up, and only then I noticed I was still staring at the scars wearing not my best expression. But how could I not look at that? I mean, they were a little creepy. What could cause that besides bites?

And I should care less about the fact I made him uncomfortable: I was irritated, tired, terrified of the fucking thunderstorm falling outside when a stranger sits right in front of me without even waiting for an answer! However, I remembered the scar I had on my shoulder, one that bothered me so much during the summer season and made me so uncomfortable in a swimsuit. I felt terrible, I hated it when people would start to stare in disgust, and I had just repeated what I so much despised.

"Wait!" I leaned across the table to reach for his arm in time to stop him from leaving. The man turned back, and that was when my eyes finally went to his face.

I didn't often blush - on the contrary, I made people blush. But now, my face was on fire, and I didn't even know why. Yes, the man in front of me was handsome. Maybe handsome didn't do him justice, perhaps work of art would fit better. Or godlike. With a face like that he could have as many scars as his body could comport, no freaking mark would make him less perfect. For me, it was an instant physical attraction - one-sided, of course.

Stop blushing at this freaking minute, Alice.

"I mean, you can stay." God, I sounded desperate. No doubt he kept staring at me with wide eyes.

"They make most people a bit uncomfortable," the man said, finally breaking his gaze. "I always hide them well to avoid-"

"Questions?" He nodded, and before I knew what I was doing, I had already removed my coat and scarf. Suddenly I felt completely at home with this stranger - must be because we shared the same nuisance. "Motorcycle accident when I was fourteen," I said, showing with some difficulty a piece of my right shoulder, almost totally covered by a thicker, reddish skin. "I hate this scar."

"Looks a lot better than the ones I have," he answered, a half-smile on his lips, and I could not argue as he once more rolled up his sleeves, showing me more closely his two strong-scraped forearms. I could see he was truly smiling when our eyes met. "Jasper." He held out a hand for me, and I returned the gesture.

"Alice." But I was surprised when the grip shifted to an antique gesture, the man taking my hand to his lips. When I felt the kiss on the back of my hand - such cold lips! - I barely suppressed a shiver.

"It's a pleasure, Alice." I took another sip of coffee as he let go of my hand. A feeling of deep calm and protection invade me, as the storm outside merely bothers me anymore. Why was I feeling like this beside him?

"Are you from Manchester?" I hoped to get a yes with that question.

"Now I am," I couldn't suppress my smile any longer, Jasper himself giving me another of his breathtaking smiles. And there I was, blushing again. "It's been exactly one day, three hours and forty-seven minutes since I've moved here." He finished after looking at his wristwatch. "Maybe you can show me around one day."

I lost track of time talking with him. How could I not? Our conversation was so natural! It was like we've known each other for a long time: he always said the right thing to keep me interested, and I could not keep my mouth shut after the first few seconds. Minutes passed, and soon I found myself telling him about my family, my sister, how I was also new in that city. How hard it was to live without both my parents.

"We can discover the city together, then." He was so annoyingly charming. When was the last time any man got my attention like that?

Suddenly, something vibrating interrupted our talk. Damn, his cellphone. For a moment I desired to know who was important enough to disrupt our moment - not a girlfriend, was it? Jasper gave a half smile after looking at the display of his iPhone, getting up the next second.

"Lovely company, but business calls," he explained, unfolding his sleeves once more, placing his cell back in his pocket. "We'll see each other again, Alice. I'm sure of that." One more kiss on the back of my hand and the man headed for the door.

We'll see each other again? Seriously? We'll see each other again?

As I watched Jasper leave the cafe, unable to say anything in response, I finally got off my dreamworld. Of course, he was just flirting, a man like him would never ask my number anyway. Unfortunately, all my so-desired calm had gone with him, and I shrank again at the next sound of thunder.

I fucking hated storms.

* * *

_Bella's point of view._

_"Hey, you there!" It was dark, yet I could see the man screaming._

_"Yeah, we got a shortcut." The voice came from behind me._

_"Stay away from me." I tried to make my voice sound at least a bit threatening, but with my throat dry I failed completely._

_Damn it._

_"Come on, don't be like that, sweetheart." They laughed. I was surrounded. No! Oh God, don't let them-_

_"Get in the car."_

* * *

When I woke up, I felt my heart racing, my breath fast. That dream was so real! The man in that dark street was not the same as this morning, though it felt just as real.

However, the moment my eyes opened I totally forgot about the nightmare. This was not the ceiling of my bedroom - too high, too white, with no stars drawn all over it. Nor was it the ceiling of any of the few rooms I knew in this city. Where was I?

I sat on the bed - so comfortable - and looked around me. Whoever decorated that place knew very well what was doing, the room has a good taste that could be compared to Alice's - and that was my supreme compliment. All the bedroom was painted in a very light tone, and on the walls, all I could see were shelves and more shelves full of CD's, completed by a sophisticated stereo imitating an old radio on the exterior.

Curiosity made me get up to see more closely the collection, and only then did I acknowledge how sore my body was. Indeed, the worst was the bruises in my right arm: it was still throbbing as if the man's hand was still squeezing me. Something burned around my waist as well, and I knew the knife had cut the skin when my hand found a bandage. I was so close to-

Something vibrating at the bedside table turned my attention away from those memories. No, I wouldn't think about that anymore. It didn't happen. According to the digital clock, it was already four o'clock in the afternoon, and my phone had twenty-three messages from two different contacts. Alice was one of them, for sure.

 **WHERE. ARE. YOU.**  It was the last message my sister sent. I so much needed a story, because the truth was one she could never know. I started typing something when she texted me again.  **Should've told me you were with James! Izzy and Jamie, underneath a tree, S2.**

It's during the times of need that we discover our real friends. The other message was, of course, from Jamie.  **I told Al you're with me. R U ALIVE? Text me asap, shorty.**

I sat back in the mattress and it didn't take me any longer to answer them both.

**Sorry Al, Jamie and I kept talking and I forgot about you. Stop the madness, we're just friends! I'll come home for celebration dinner.**

**James, my savior, thank you so much! Everything's fine, I'll explain later, okay? Owe you one :)**  I texted fast with a smile on my lips, remembering how many times in the past I had cover for him.

I only noticed someone apart from me in the room when a soft voice made itself present.

"Isabella?" Not expecting to have any company, I almost dropped my cellphone when I heard my name. My eyes went to the door, where the boy from the cafeteria was now, in his hands a glass of water. No, not the boy from the cafeteria. He had a name, now. "How are you?" Edward asked, coming closer.

In pain, scared, frightened; but my voice betrayed me and didn't come out, and so did my eyes, which were unable to leave him. As close as Edward was, I could now see he was way more well-defined than appeared to be under all those coats. Only when I looked into his eyes, the irises of such a dark yellow - were they not black before? - that I remembered it would be somehow polite to respond. Damn Isabella, get a hold of yourself.

"I'm kind of sore," It came out when he handed me the water. I practically drank the whole glass at once, only then noticing how thirsty I was.

"More?" I shook my head no, placing the empty cup on the bedside table, along with my phone.

"You're the guy I saw at Starbucks." I told him, already knowing his name but not wanting to creep the man out.

Edward's smile was undoubtedly the most stunning I've ever seen. A little hesitant, he sat down beside me, his eyes studying me as much as mine did with him. Now, being so close, I was one hundred percent sure that I had never seen him before - still, the sense of familiarity remained. That warm smile, that sun-kissed hair, those deep eyes, the way he behaved, even the freaking way he walked to me: so familiar. I've seen it somewhere before today.

"Thank you." I finally said. "Really, for everything. If you hadn't-"

"No need to thank me, Bella. Anyone would - should - do the same." Edward interrupted me. Bella, only James called me Bella. How did he know my name again? Did I tell him before passing out? "I thought coming home would be more practical than driving you to a hospital, and I remembered Carlisle had his morning off this Saturday." he kept going, assuming I knew his father. Dr. Cullen must have talked about me, and I felt strangely happy about it: so I was important enough to be mentioned. Because for what I can remember, Edward was aware of my name before taking me to his house. "My father is the one who did the dressing on your side," he explained, frowning. "The cut was not deep, you didn't need any stitches. Carlisle said it would be best to leave you sleeping. We didn't know where you lived exactly, anyway, or who we should call." I saw him close his eyes for a second, the smile returning. How could a smile be so soothing? "You do know my father, right?" I confirmed with my head.

"The Cullen family appears to be there always to save my day." I joked, eyes still locked onto his.

"A classic damsel in distress," he joked back. "My name's Edward."

_"My name is Edward Cullen," the bronze-haired boy said. His handsome face was friendly, a charming, warm smile on his lips. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan."_

_"H-How do you know my name?" I asked._

_"Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town has been waiting for you."_

The whole town what?

"Thank you, Edward," I said, shaking my head.

It happened again. My mind had created some sick fantasy of another life again. What was happening with my brain? And my daydreaming surely didn't pass by unnoticed, Edward must have seen me zoning out. My heart sped up, and I could already feel my cheeks begin to blush with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I think I'm still a bit dizzy." By your smile. I almost died when his hand reached for my check, brushing a strand of hair away from my eyes. "Seriously," How can this man have this overly-strong effect on me? "If there's anything I can do-" Other than

"Play me a song." he said, putting his hand away after lightly stroking my cheek - so cold! I had to suppress the urge to pick it up and rub it between my own. "Not today, Isabella." he continued, my name coming out of his lips in an almost musical way: the voice of this man was as beautiful as him. "But one day, I'd love to hear you play. You  _do_  play the guitar, right?" I would even sing if you asked me to.

"I do." I replied the instant Edward stood up, my body already missing his cold skin. How could I not want this proximity? He was the most dreamy-

And then, I gasped - and thank goodness he apparently ignored the sound I made. There it was, the explanation I was searching for! Those dreams, those stupid dreams I kept having night after night, it was him the faceless boy! I could never remember his features, not even now, but I was entirely sure it was Edward with whom I constantly dreamed of. And I was totally and irrevocably in love with the Edward that I met every time I closed my eyes.

I shook my head, trying to clean my thoughts: this was so, so dangerous. I was falling for some version of a handsome guy who only existed in my mind - because I couldn't know that much information about him. It was all made up, I practically just met the guy! And there I was, wandering off again!

"By the way," Once again his voice took me back to reality. Edward was already by my side again, holding in his hands what appeared to be a guitar case - was my mother's guitar inside? "Your case got all wet from the rain, so I'm lending you one of mine." It automatically reminded me of the wrist, and my next question came out before I gave much thought.

"Is everyone in your family this kind?" I was sure I would never tire of looking at that gorgeous smile - and here I was, ready to start daydreaming again. "I mean, your dad helped me for free and he didn't even know me, and now you," I explained, gesturing to my instrument. "You know I'm going to return this, don't you?" My phone chose to vibrate again at that moment, the display showing me a new message. An uber was coming? Wait, had I ordered one?

"You better leave me your number then, so I can call you and demand it back." I heard him, before giving me a paper and a pen. So old-fashioned, just like the boy in my dreams! I couldn't help but laugh. "Something funny?" he tried to say in a serious voice but failed.

"I thought I was the last adept of old things." I answered as I rested the piece of paper on my lap and wrote my phone and name.

His laugh was like the best song, the one that calms you, that takes away everything bad. I took a deep breath, and almost closed my eyes in contentment with what I only now realized: this room smelled so sweet. Where had I felt this aroma before?

"Here." I handed him the paper, getting up. Standing now, I could see how tall Edward really was. Did Alice felt this short around everybody? "Hey, I know my handwriting is a bit childish, but you can't laugh!" I scolded him as I saw the corner of his lips pull up.

"I'm sorry." Once again, he came closer. "Your handwriting is cute. I didn't mean to make you embarrassed with it." But the smirk was still on his lips. "Do you need to go?" The question came when my cellphone vibrated yet again.

"My Uber must have arrived." Edward looked at me confused, and I wanted to say I was as confused as him. Short term memory loss, I guess? "I asked for a car through the app when I woke up." I think. "I didn't want to be a nuisance any longer."

"You could never be one, Bella." he said seriously, his eyes once again locking in mine. I completely lost the ability to function when he did that. Imagine what a kiss from him could do.

"I-" I felt again my checks burning: I needed to get away from him to recover my ability to think. "Is not that I didn't want to stay, is just that-" Why again did I have to go with him wanting me to stay? "My sister." I finally found the reason. "She's waiting for me. Not in the Uber, at home."

"Well," Was that disappointment? "Let me at least walk you out," he said, opening the door for me and carrying my guitar to the front gate, where a black car was already waiting. "Feeling strong enough to hold it?" I heard him ask before handing me the guitar. I was, but the instrument seemed heavier than I remembered when I picked it up, and again I remembered how sore my body was.

"Thank you again." I said as I got in.

The driver started the car when Edward tapped on my window. My gaze went to him instantly.

"Yes?" I asked after putting the glass down.

"I will call, Bella."

My smile only grew bigger.


End file.
